Just like Michelangelo saw the angel in the marble and carved until he set him free, Chloe took pride in her ability to see submissives hiding in otherwise self-reliant men in everyday walks of life and she plied them with mind addling drugs, alcohol and her heightened powers of seduction until she set the internal submissive free and exposed for all to see. Of course the immediate cost of that freedom would be a new life reconstructed in slavery in the New America reiterated in the New Order.
As he stood beside the examining table with flames raging in his cheeks, he submitted to the doctors unexpected request of full nudity. With his clothes neatly piled on the adjacent chair, he laid his bare body against the cold blue plastic and took a deep, calming inhale before letting it slowly ooze out his nostrils.
"Why ... is it I have to be naked?" he asked sheepishly, already knowing it was a question of no use.
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.
She came by one day a few months after their divorce while Kevin was away on a business trip.
When I opened the door, she looked fabulous, as if she had done a makeover. "Kim! Hi! What brings you up here?" I asked, trying to mask my sudden excitement at seeing her look so good. She was wearing a two-piece sort of business outfit. It was a crushed black-velvet jacket with a short skirt and a white silk blouse with a ruffled collar.
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.
One of the more intense periods of my life happened when I was searching for a new Mistress. I guess having been used as a slut for some time, and now being without a vicious Mistress I was missing the pain in parts of my body, especially my balls...but that was about to change.
Meeting Mistress G for the first time, I was pleased to see all her descriptions had been accurate, this being before the age of internet and email.
Dedicated to Red.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.
Franklin Swanson always knew he was different. He was a good looking man, tall with dark hair, an athletic build but not an athlete.
This can be read as a standalone, but also is a sequel to Kerry and Will.
If you want to read is as part of the BDSM Manor stories, it comes between chapters 10 and 11.
Tess-O'Meter -- Amber.
-X
He hangs from his wrists.
Sweat soaked and trembling.
Exhausted and helpless. Completely mine.
Every fractured breath is like a stimulant to my aching, throbbing cock.
My slave is beautiful.
It's only 6 p.m. and the Hart building is quiet as church. The summer recess doesn't start for another day but it seems like the whole place decided to take an early weekend. Senator Aldridge is the last name on my list. I want to go home too.
I knock three times on the door to his suite. It's open but there's no one to be found. I tentatively peek my head inside.