Pain

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.

I awakened that day to an early morning sun warming my skin and the sounds of birdsong drifting into my cell. A steaming cup of dandelion root and young nettle tea had been placed on the floor near my head and the shade raised, so I lingered a moment in the sunlight stretching slowly, stiffly, before rising. My nipples throbbed dully as I gently sipped the hot tea while trying to ignore a growing discomfort in my bladder and the weighty metal shackle around my right ankle.

Masturbation on request or miss the World Cup Semi Final? I humbly chose the latter and apologised. Thinking that was enough. Thinking it such a small oversight. But Prim took it as a major slap in the face. It was Her cock and She would not be denied by a mere football match, even if Her orders to me were to do it in a sleazy pub toilet. I still turned up for our rendezvous the next day and prayed She would too.

The true story goes something like this: I am a lawyer, he is my client. He is in prison and I go to see him. We sit across a small table; the seats remind me of preschool and we are far too large to take up such a small space. I have to ask a guard if I can hug him. The guard, disgusted, says, "Yes, if you'd want to."

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.

Many kinksters will argue that BDSM is about physics- the creamy rhythm between the cane and the flesh, or the quiet intensity of tying a submissive in a challenging and artistic position. Others might counter by saying that is all about biology- kink electrifying the exchange of endorphins and fuelling the intensity of the pain and pleasure paradigm. Two episodes with my Mistress recently illustrated to me that whilst both above are true, its chemistry that is the all-important science, needed to create the perfect scene between Dominant sadist and compliant submissive.

There he was, dressed in black pants and a white shirt. He was handsome, slightly older than I, maybe 25, brunette with piercing green eyes. This is all I saw before he walked over and slipped a blindfold over my eyes and I found myself in total darkness. His calm but demanding voice startled me. "Do you agree to give yourself to me for as long as I please, at my will, no safe words, no ways out, completely at my mercy?

We pull into the picnic site at just after ten o'clock, after a few hours in the pubs in Edgware where Mary has been flaunting herself at the males (bending over from the waist to pick up dropped change, exposing her stocking tops and thong; allowing me to finger her in the street outside and be spotted by groups of young men). It is still relatively quiet, only a few cars with single guys, so she orders me into the back and tells me to strip.

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.

***AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you like, please rate and comment.*** ***** The three of them arrived at Jennifer and Kendra's off campus apartment at around 10:00 p.m. It was a sprawling two-bedroom loft in a renovated furniture factory not far from the university. There were tall windows and high ceilings and a lot of exposed brick. Upon entering the apartment, Kendra immediately began removing her clothing. Jennifer and the professor stood in the entryway watching the young slave.

Professor Ballard woke up on her stomach on her bedroom floor. She was naked and collared. She ached all over. Her hands were cuffed behind her back. She lay still in the coolness of the morning. It had been a rough three days. She heard Kendra snoring lightly in the bed above her. She craned her neck and looked up at the clock on the nightstand. It was time to wake up her mistress.

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.

Olivia made her way to the front door, adjusting both her dress and hair as she approached. Making sure she looked as immaculate as possible. Olivia then knocked on the door and was quickly greeted by a beautiful woman wearing only a satin robe. "Olivia, sweetheart please go on through." Olivia smiled, nodding her head graciously accepting. Olivia entered the living room that was lit only by a large roaring fire that created a picturesque and romantic scene.

It had been a month since I had seen my sub. We had dated for a couple of months, touched on him submitting. He always claimed to want it, but rebuked when it came down to game time. The time away had opened our eyes, both or our eyes. I seen him for the true pain slut he is. Me for the desire to control, push limits, mentally break brains.

I was standing, my arms stretched up to where the cuffs were fastened to a rope slung over an exposed beam in our cabin. I was naked apart from a collar around my neck. I felt a little embarrassed about how turned on I was in this situation, but we were both a little drunk and had been teasing each other about how fun this would be. After all, she had been tied up by me several times and we both really enjoyed it.

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.

On a recent vacation to Rio I met a very gorgeous and voluptuous mature lady whom I guessed was in her early 50's. She was a tall woman, close to six feet in height, and in her high heels she towered over my short frame. Her sandy blonde shoulder length hair set off the classically beautiful features of her face. Her figure was still slender for her age, her long sultry legs exposed beneath the mini-skirts she wore.

Chapter 1 - Friday evening: the beginning of a weekend. They always enjoyed Steph coming to stay. She was their niece. She was sweet. She was bubbly. She was pretty - she was slim with long black hair, shapely - one day she would be a very beautiful woman - all she lacked was the confidence. For several years she had come to stay once a month for a weekend, and they had had lots of good times together.