Slavery

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.

Driving home, Darrell Plunkett certainly hoped that Bootsie had changed her mind. He knew that Bootsie was jealous of Thelma; Darrell's secretary was quite a dish, and sweet and charming in a way that his wife wasn't though of course Bootsie served Darrell's needs well. "You know it depends on you, Darrell." Bootsie had said, smiling the night before. "If you want to have a release, you have to do it on my terms.

NOW The ceiling lamp flickers, intermittently bathing the windowless room in cold neon light. A naked body begins to move on the narrow bunk where silvery, shimmering chains wind their way over the pale skin of the stretched-out woman. Their soft tinkling is suddenly drowned out by a loud clicking noise from the heavy steel door's locking mechanism, then a tall woman with long black hair steps through the opening door and stops in front of the wall of bars separating the cell and bunk from the rest of the large room.

Kavya sat down on a small bench placed on top of the college building's terrace. "This is a wonderful, warm place to sit and think. Come, join me," she tapped the seat next to hers. "Wow, I've been in this college two years, never seen this spot before." Priya said. "So quiet and secluded." "And warm," Kavya said. "Check out the view from here. You can see the college grounds fully.

Prisoner Of Lust A Latex Futa Nuns From Hell Side Story Camilo paced nervously in the kitchen as he looked at his phone. It would ring any minute and his nerves were standing on edge. He'd just closed his laptop after a brief chat with a woman on Fetlife. At least, he hoped it was a woman. One could never be certain a stranger's profile was real until you met them in real life.

Her exquisite service to her owner concluded, she carefully let my cock out of her mouth without getting anything on my pants, just as she'd been trained. I touched the back of her head gently. Recognizing the signal she bent her head forward, and I lifted her long black hair and squeezed the last few drops of come from my cock onto the nape of her neck, on the soft hairs where I liked to kiss her.

Professor Ballard took another sip of Chardonnay as she continued to survey the crowd. These faculty receptions were so predictable. The usual suspects were all present and accounted for. She nodded at her fellow faculty members politely. There was the stodgy department chair. God, was he actually wearing a tweed jacket? What a dolt. Over there was the cluster of teaching assistants and new instructors, always anxious to impress. All smiles and handshakes.

***AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm addicted to your comments and feedback, good and bad. More. Please. *** ***** Professor Ballard allowed the lithe, young blond to lead her by the hand down the dim hallway. When they reached her office, she fished her key out of her clutch and silently opened the door. She motioned for Kendra to go in first. Ballard followed her and locked the door behind her, then turned to face her student.

***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.

"Not good enough, you dumb cow. Try again," said the young mistress sternly. Kathleen Ballard took a moment to compose herself. She was an English professor. She should be able to string together a few coherent sentences and come up with a compelling and convincing argument that would satisfy her new mistress. Professor Ballard was a 44 year-old divorcee who had discovered lesbianism relatively late in life. She liked her girls young.

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.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: My apologies for the delay. I was stuck for quite some time, but now I think I have things straightened out. Expect more installments more quickly. ***** Kendra sat on the edge of the bed, basking in the glow of her second orgasm of the morning, courtesy of Professor Ballard. The slave remained on her knees between the student's legs. She continued to nuzzle Kendra's pussy eagerly after she finished cleaning her with her tongue.

Creating Quite a Buzz: A Temporary Trap AUTHOR'S NOTE: Welcome to my world, where all women are lesbians, all lesbians are squirters and absolutely everyone is in to heavy BDSM. This is the continuing saga of Kathleen Ballard, a mild mannered, middle-aged English professor who has suddenly decided to surrender to her deepest, darkest carnal lesbian desires. Her rapid descent into slavery has been marked by extreme humiliation, degradation and abuse, all of it quite consensual and deeply satisfying to all parties involved.

***WARNING: NON-CONSENSUAL FUCKERY AHEAD*** This story contains elements of coercion, blackmail and body modification in the context of heavy BDSM. Daphne is hereby acknowledged to be a narcissistic sociopath at best or a functional psychotic at worst. I want to portray her as a monster, so don't be surprised when she does monstrous things. Nobody should do any of this stuff to anybody in real life. Now, let the depravity begin.