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.
*
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.
"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.
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.
Hello lovelies, hope you enjoy this one. As always, everyone in this story is 18+ and it should go without saying that some of the actions depicted in this story would be dangerous in real life. Use common sense.
If you want to get straight to the 'fun' stuff, look out for the three asterisks (***). Enjoy!
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Outside of an old playhouse, a queue that stretched back nearly half a block shivered in the cold winter air.
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.
A story for my peach
Wind wound its way through the woods, shaking the trees and sending their delicate leaves cascading to the forest floor. The crisp spirit of fall was taking hold, cooling the forest and yet warming its colors into a swirl of chocolate, honey, and pumpkin hues. The people of the wood were settling in for the season, harvesting what they had grown and storing it away to see them through lonely, haunted nights or merry visits from friends.
It was already the last days of July but it didn't feel like summer at all. She hadn't been in London for much more than a month and she was still not used to the constantly overcast, drizzly weather and all that suffocating humidity that makes you feel hot and cold at the same time. But no matter how this city beat her down the last few weeks, she still liked it here.
Step by step, he had led her down the path towards surrender.
He was always touching her, patting her, fondling her dark hair, rubbing her shoulders and hugging her.
And, playing her part, she learnt the rules: his rules. She was careful not to breathe a hint of her sexual activities with her owner to a single living soul.
This made her feel special, as if she and her owner were united in their torrid secret, the two of them against the world.
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.