Spanking

Introduction: This story rose unbidden from my unconscious mind during a heated exchange with an on-line lover. We were roll-playing an evolving Dom/sub scenario in which I had been a very bad girl. During a rest break I skimmed the text of our ping-ponging messages, and suddenly I felt a strong urge to type, so I began. The core of this story then appeared on the screen, line after line without pause, pouring out of some dim recess in my brain.

sabrina dropped to her knees once she saw who was standing in the kitchen of her house...coat unceremoniously laying by the door. "Oh my fucking gawd..." she drawled slowly, letting the tears stream down her face. "...Sir." His Mr. Clean appearance was magnified tenfold by the faded and worn camo fatigue pants, sans t-shirt and bare feet. Sexy as fuck was a mild way of describing His appearance. "Yes, my blond bitch,"

Sir turned away and spoke towards justine this time, "And i don't appreciate My seasoned slave being so willingly apart of this adventure, so whatever punishment befalls My submissive will tenfold land on My slave...in due time." Snapping His head back to sabrina, there was a glint of humor in Sir's eyes as He added, "maybe a fitting punishment would be an eye for an eye type of scenario, My pretty blonde bitch.

Pam and her sister, Gillian, are talking in a coffee shop. "Pam darling, you would not believe, he is so wonderful," Gilly's voice goes very high and squeaky when she is excited, "even though he is quite a bit older than me, he is so energetic especially in the bedroom," Gillian was telling her older sister Pam all about the new man in her life, "I have my own credit card, a maid looks after the flat and the laundry,"

Leonard got up from the computer when he heard the doorbell ring. He looked through the peephole there she was! Eight months she'd been gone. And of course, Pam could tell that he was looking through the damn keyhole, and she gave him a big lipped smile, those damned lips, glossed in cherry red one of Leonard's friends said Pam was a dead ringer for Christina Hendricks, the redhead on "

She walked through the utility room door into the house. Her annoyance was plain on her face as he sheepishly welcomed her home from the couch. "Hey Darlin', how was your day?" Ignoring his attempt at normalcy, she crossed the carpeted floor in her heels and stood, arms crossed, before him. "You were drunk last night." It wasn't a question. "I did have a bit to drink...." "You kept me up all night with your drunken snoring.

"Jennifer, get in here, now!" I hear the unmistakeable boom in Your voice, and I'm concerned. You seem to be very upset, but I am not sure as to why. My mind quickly flitters around, and tries to figure out some simple reasons. I enter the bedroom where You're standing. And then, I see what is scrunched up in Your hand. You're holding a pair of my panties, and I know only too well what has angered You, now.

Shannon Blake couldn't help it. She simply had to talk herself into trouble. This had been a problem for her growing up at home, at school and later on, wherever she worked. She seemed to crave confrontation and constantly found herself arguing with others over the smallest of issues. Of course, this was before she met Erik Powell. The two had been dating less than a month when Shannon managed to instigate a loud argument in the middle of a film they were watching.

I saw her as soon as she walked onto the train platform. Gorgeous, petite, and fair skinned... Long, fine blonde hair... Very typical Dutch girl. She must have also just come off a long haul flight like me. She was dressed almost in pajamas -- two tight camisole tops in different colors and a pair of stretchy, checkered, capri pants that were almost painted on. Her whole body was that of a lean, young girl -- small, perky breasts pressed together to create some cleavage where otherwise there would be none, just a glimpse of taut abs where her shirts ended and her pants began, and firm legs probably toned from years of riding bicycles everywhere.

I am in a mood tonight. It's hard to describe, kind of feisty I guess. As I walk up to my Dom's door, I start to imagine what the night may have in store. He'll expect me to come in, strip down and assume my presenting position: kneeling on the floor with my hands behind my head, breasts out, waiting for inspection. But you know what? I don't feel like doing that tonight.

The look I gave her was one of mild surprise. "What are you doing here?" I said. She smiled as I pulled on my drink. "Your wife told me where to find you, Raymond." "My wife wouldn't tell you jack squat, Jan. She knows about our history." Her smile grew wider. "She didn't realize what she was telling me at the time, hon." Jan had never been given to alcohol, so she sat with her 7-Up, sucking on the straw and eying me playfully.

This story jumped up on me. It's not what I was planning to write next, but it's what came out. This is the second entry in my series In Media Res. While both stories are standalones, we're dropping in on the narrator of "Juxtapositions" 10-15 years down the track. If you dive in, expect an intense scene of public group sex with multiple anonymous partners, partner sharing, knife play, heavy impact play, some verbal degradation, and piss play.

It's still hard to believe that my wife and I are by ourselves for spring break. The story of how we ended up that way is one for another time -- and really, I should turn things over to Shayleigh, our beautiful twenty-year-old sex pet, when that time comes. She's off with her new friend, Julia, on a week-long fuck fest in Colorado, exploring her dominant side for the very first time.

The light shinning through the small window over the bed rustled him awake. He looked down at the woman lying on top of his cock. He wanted to force her up and fuck her again but he thought it better to allow her to sleep. She was going to need her strength once she found out. The news was not going to be easy for her to swallow. He silently laughed at his own pun.

This story is entirely fictional and the characters therein are fictional and any association with persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The story may contain sexual references or behavioral descriptions as well as graphic descriptions that might be considered pornographic. If such things are offensive or distasteful to you, the reader, please cease reading immediately and destroy this data. ========================================================== Part III It was early Sunday morning when Mark pulled into the parking spot in front of the Westside Gym.

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.

Please Note: This story is purely fiction *** One of the characters is an Episcopal priest, for those who don't know and will try to correct me: Episcopal Priests can and do marry. They are properly referred to as Priests, not Ministers *** Thank you & Enjoy. The cold little church was packed to capacity. Candles flickered along the center isle. Garlands of evergreen swayed a rhythmically as the monotone choir sang "

Like any other day I'm finally home from a long night at work. Being a secretary isn't bad it's just taking orders and answering phones drives me crazy sometimes. It's just after eleven when I get into my apartment and lock the door behind. I quickly remove my clothes down to just my bra and panties. "Ahh, much better." I say out loud talking to myself like usual. I go to the bathroom and flick on the light to see a man wearing a mask in the reflection of the mirror right behind me.

The room was so dark and warm. I rolled about in the bed, tangling my self in the sheet and Sir's shirt. I smiled as I breathed in his scent my thoughts lingering on him, my skin heated more. I knew I shouldn't but I wanted to touch myself my thoughts swirling around him, my hands momentarily danced over my skin before I came to my senses and stopped. I also knew I shouldn't remove Sir's shirt but I really wasn't in the mood to get up and go adjust the heat.

I curl my toes up, pulling them from the cold floor beneath me, my knees ache pressed against the hardness of the wood. Tiny goosebumps raise over my arms. I want badly to whisk the hair from my face as I stare down at the floor, but don't want to risk you seeing me fidget. I'm still deciding what to do when I hear the door creak open. I hear a faint rustling noise and wonder if you are undressing.

Dan stood silently in the corner. He was naked, and his bottom was bright red from his recent across-the-lap hairbrush paddling from his girlfriend Stasia. His punishment would be finished if it weren't for the fact that he had ejaculated when he was being spanked. He squirted his spunk on Stasia's legs and ankles, as well as on the carpet beneath him. The way he twisted and squirmed when he spurted embarrassed him now, although he felt no shame at the time when the intense feeling of his orgasm overcame him.

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.

CHAPTER ONE He needed the hand on his shoulder, the kiss to his temple and the hot, ragged breath of his Master over his face. "Silas!" Instinct took over. Silas Oswald dropped to his knees, taking cover behind the waist high bar that extended along the length of the Tesla-Coil Tavern. The movement was futile; Mistress Lavinia had already seen him and wasn't likely to forgive his disobedience anytime in the near future.

Stefan has arranged to meet Julia at a cocktail bar in London's St. Pancras. They met each other on an internet chat room, though they have met in person a few times this only their second hotel rendezvous. On line they have developed an intimate bond and Julia, his sub is now ready to submit entirely to her dom. For ten days now, Stefan has forbidden her to touch or pleasure herself in any way.

We'd been sat in the attorney's office for the past few minutes. The attorney in question, Mr Andrews, was at his desk, shuffling through some papers. Over the phone, he'd made clear that our attendance was not necessary and he could forward the paperwork to us, however, my mother had insisted. "I want to see the look on her face when she gets nothing," she'd said with glee, while arguing over the phone.

Author's Note: This story includes a number of BDSM/Fetish themes but no conventional sex. If you are seeking the latter, please look elsewhere. The story is set in England. Thus, the words used are British English, not those of any other part of the English speaking world. I hope this does not cause confusion. I am an 18 year-old orphan boy. I have never met my step-mum, but I am sure I will soon.

Hello again! Sorry for my hiatus, genuinely, but there is more where this came from. This is a little story about submission and (bi)sexuality. I hope you will enjoy. Thank you to LaRascasse and TRCIII for looking this over :). And, as always, all characters in this story are eighteen years old or above. All readers should also be eighteen years or above. -L Dozens of eyes followed me and with nowhere to hide, I feigned confidence.

I don't know why I lied about the stupid vase. It was an accident, a simple slip of my hand as I was dusting the shelf, an unfortunate vibration that caused the ancient ornament to topple over and fall to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. It wasn't even that pretty. I'm sure that Miss Ford wouldn't have batted an eyelid if I'd only come clean about it and told her what happened in the first place.

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.