This story is strictly fiction; any correlation to actual people alive or dead is purely happenstance. It took a long time to write. I hope it is somewhat coherent.
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On the first warm spring Saturday, young Seth awoke to the enticing smell of bacon, groggily he arose off his childhood bed and headed downstairs still in his blue cotton sailor-themed pajamas. At his mature age, the pajamas were adolescent, yet he still wore them.
She knelt on the thin carpet of the medium-grade hotel, eyes down, listening. Still clothed, but suggestively so, deep v neckline on an almost see-through blouse, short skirt, stockings. All black. Her Master and Sir Gryphon sat in medium-grade hotel furniture, negotiating what Sir Gryphon could do to Master's slave tonight in the ballroom-turned-dungeon.
Her Master enjoyed sharing her, enjoyed seeing other men hurt her, and pleasure her. It wasn't a kink either of them expected, rather like a man finding joy in sharing his car or horse with someone who would appreciate it.
A 1688 word short story about a game we played introducing one another to the wondrous joy of abject sexual submission. Lisa and Jamie were 19, Eva 20, George and Paul 21.
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We were born in turbulent times, and we grew up during the war that wasn't an "official" war in Vietnam, it dominated our childhood and the resulting economic downturn dominated our adolescence. We had just graduated from high school and rented a place together down the road near the Junior College in Llano.
It's Friday, just after midday, and I am in the lift of my Dom's office building. I have a caesar salad in my bag for him which is ostensibly my motivation for dropping in. Later, we're going away for a long, filthy weekend. A weekend which should have already begun except he was called into work to approve an emergency file. He promised to be back by early afternoon but I'm overcome by giddy anticipation.
This story contains elements of female domination, humiliation, degradation, corporal punishment and homosexuality. If that's not your thing go read something else.
Dogshit the Bitch teaches the gospel
Someone reading this with modern eyes might well question my sanity and the sanity of the man sucking my cock even more. They would also think that we were the same when we are very different. He is a masochist who loves being punished and abused by a sadistic woman.
Willow kneels on an easy chair, straddling a well-padded arm, left knee on the seat, right foot on the floor, bottom elevated to an ideal height. Sharing the same cushion, Carmen adopts a mirror-image stance; side by side they lean forward, bodies touching.
Slender blond Willow, the taller of the two, is almost completely naked. By inclination a free-spirited girl, her simple summer frock discarded virtually the moment she arrived. Currently wearing no more than a silver ankle chain, high heels and a cheeky expression, she wriggles her bum in anticipation and grips Carmen's hand.
Emma struggled against her restraints for the hundredth time.
"P-Please! Please, Professor, let me..."
A sharp sting on her back made her stop talking.
"Little Princess Doll..." He started, his hand gently caressing her bare ass where he had just slapped her. "How many times do I have to tell you to be quiet?"
"I'm sorry! I..."
Another slap and she bit her lip. His hand resumed his caressing of her stinging skin.
He arrived. After a short chat of small talk, and me trying to get information, I was given one decision for the night. Do I want to partake in the decisions or have them made for me? I yielded control.
So he made the decision to play first and talk after, so we headed to the bedroom. I was ordered to sit. I sipped my wine while watching him unpack his bag.
The bar that night was fairly empty. The music played softly in the background, drowning out the individual conversations.
The patrons were spread out, some tucked into dark booths while others lounged in pairs on the soft chairs in the center of the room.
I was sitting alone at the bar top, nursing a whiskey and water. Life had been weighing me down and I had hoped to escape with a drink and maybe take someone home.
I look down at the woman at my feet, stroking her hair, admiring the yearning in her eyes as she looks up at me. She kisses my leg, rubbing her hands up my body as I stroke her face and down her neck. She is in a lovely red piece of lingerie that I picked out for her, accentuating her beautiful breasts, leaving open every point of access for play. She is a fucking goddess and has put her pleasure in my hands.
He relaxed against the headboard. His thighs spread wide with one knee bent. His cock was long and firm sprouting from a nest of dark curls, beneath his arousal hung his large, heavy sac. Submissively, I crawled between his legs my eyes downcast just the way he liked. First, I inhaled his strong, musky scent. The scent guaranteed to make me wet.
I nuzzled his sac, gently suckling each testicle. His lips parted and he began to pant but he said not a word.
Emily had a dull sex life. She was 32 years old, petite, and had shoulder-length brown hair and blue eyes. Her breasts were only a B cup but were still impressive.
She and her husband, Matt, were raised in strict households where sex was considered taboo. They had no kids and plenty of time, but each thought that the other saw sex as "dirty."
Because of the brainwashing and that terrible misunderstanding, Matt and Emily's sex life suffered.
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.
The day began as any other in the past, the sun rose. The sun shone through the window. The sun's shimmering streaks showed off her sexy naked form and as always I was in awe of her. Irene slept hard after our session last night her body still tender from my pounded bottom. So, I decided Dad would get her breakfast going. I slip out of bed quietly and tiptoe across the room letting her sleep till I have prepared her meal.
The morning starts out like every other morning. I walk into the office and begin preparing for the new day. I start my day with a large cup of coffee. I relax in my office sipping my coffee and enjoy the view of the morning sunshine on the city below. I enjoy watching the people scurry to work in the morning its just one of the many things I truly enjoy doing.
Luke could tell from Melissa's first email that day she was in a mood. Not a bad mood, but the feisty handful that he loved so much. It instantly turned him on when she was like that. He had emailed her and told her to meet him at their place in an hour. Her email back had just said, "Maybe..." but he knew she would be there.
Luke tried to concentrate on work, but all he could think about was meeting Melissa in an hour.
I awoke feeling incredibly aroused. I opened my eyes and squinted; the early morning light was streaming in past the curtains, casting everything in silhouette. I glanced at the clock at the side of the bed. It was 6am; a whole hour before the alarm would go off. I felt hot. I was naked beneath the sheets; well, nearly naked. I flipped the duvet off the top half of my body and looked down at my bare breasts.
NC-18 -- No characters under the age of 18 are depicted in this story.
This is a copyrighted original work of erotic fiction. All rights reserved.
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Carlie opened the door to the stairwell and started up the stairs. Shame she didn't think to look behind the door.
She made it to the landing outside the door on my floor and had just barely gotten her hand on the handle when an arm suddenly appeared on either side of her shoulders and pressed firmly into the door to keep it from opening.
(This is a fictional story about a young man's experiences enslaved by a middle age woman. It is a tickler for men not to overlook middle aged women who are not only sexually experienced having grown up in the liberated 70's but are not afraid of taking over as well! Having personally experienced women from their young adulthood in college to women in their fifties I know that experience counts and have had more exciting times with middle aged women who are not afraid of variety and especially female domination!
I've been a bit nervous about our date tonight, even though I've also been nearly equal parts excited. Given the fun we've had in public, I know even a movie-night in at your place should be a lot of fun. I'm pretty relieved to not have to worry about nosy strangers in the park, although I suppose I do still have your roommates to consider.
I've decided to dress easily for tonight, just to be prepared.
This is a revised and extended version of an earlier story here - 'The Next Morning' - and there is more to come.
Waking the next morning, unaccustomed dull fires reminding her of outrage, of cruel abuse of her most intimate places, she knows that something has changed inside her, that she has lost something.
It's hearbreaking.
The heartbreak is not, though, for lost innocence, for the bright promise of her relationship with him now violently shifted into a new, unknown territory, terrible hurts though both of these are.
The Background
He messaged me on another dating site a week ago. Was it really just a week ago? My god. It was a good introductory message -- the rare kind that shows he actually read my profile and connected to specific things in it. He also mentioned his profile on the kink site.
My interest was piqued. I took a chance that he used the same screen name on the kink site as the other dating site and did a search.
Some part of his mind wondered what had brought him to this place. His exact predicament was at once easy and difficult to describe. His face was currently buried between the thighs of one of his junior officers while he lapped desperately at her dripping sex. Beyond that, he would be hard pressed to say where he was. His mind had long since disappeared, lost in the sensual bliss that submission always brought him.
My Master has wanted to posses my mouth, cunt, and ass, but up to this point in time he has owned all but one, my ass. Today he will own all three.
I came down the stairs leading to our bedroom. My nipples sticking out of my shirt from the rings I placed on them this morning. It has made them very sensitive to touch. Slowly I take off my shirt and pants, exposing my red tingly nipples, and clean shaven pussy, wet still from my morning play session.
Sarah drifted lazily to her big office. What a great morning. Her first meeting wasn't until 11 am. Her assistant had brought her a coffee and porridge from a café, and she told him not to let anyone disturb her for the next 30 minutes.
She sipped the coffee and sat on her desk chair and spun around to look out the massive windows. She looked over London and felt powerful.
A friend calls you to ask if you would be interested in doing some PR work for a charity auction. There is an internationally renowned artist donating some of his paintings, and you are interested to meet him, so you agree to take the project on.
You call the number you have been given, expecting to talk to a secretary, but he answers the 'phone himself. He has a slight Scottish accent, and sounds humorous, if somewhat laconic.
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 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.
It was spring break, 2002 and Athena met Stephanie at the airport, Orlando, Florida. They hadn't seen each other since last fall when Athena moved away to college in Florida. They grew up together in a small town East of Des Moines, Iowa where they had been best friends since grade school. Of the two, Stephanie was more grounded and laid back. On the other hand, Athena was more outgoing and a bit of a trouble maker.
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.