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Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:21 PM

Jane and Carol at the Hunt.
CHAPTER ONE

“You'll enjoy it so much, Jane,” Carol told her enthusiastically. “Just think; a whole three weeks in role together!”

Jane was dubious. Her cousin's proposal was exciting, but Jane had never role-played before strangers and she inwardly quailed at the very idea of appearing naked in public. But, deep within, a queer little thrill at the prospect stirred.

Carol laughed at her. She knew very well what was troubling Jane. A veteran of several BDSM Club events, she herself had once shared the same reservations.

“It isn't at all what you may think, dear!” she said earnestly. “Take it from me, BDSM Clubs are extremely tough on anything sexual; they're positively Puritanical on the point. No-one, particularly a woman, will be subject to any sexual innuendo even, or anything of that kind! And, don't forget, this will be a Femdom event; the men present will all be slaves and well under the control of their Mistresses. And also, we'll be there in animal roles, and these people are very experienced in letting people play their parts; they will think of us purely as animals; attractive and graceful animals perhaps” (she chuckled) “but animals just the same!”

Jane, despite herself, was almost convinced. But at once she put an unerring finger at the weak spot in her cousin's scheme.

“If this is a Feminine Domination event,” she said, “they won't want subordinate women there. Surely it would make a mockery of the whole thing?”

Carol's brow creased in a frown; her cousin had a point!

“Yes; it would rather,” she admitted. “But we wouldn't be present as woman, but as female animals. Anyway, that's the argument I'll put to Lady Isobel when I see her tomorrow. Why don't you come too? One look at her will put your mind at rest!”

And to this proposition Jane agreed; after all, what could it possibly cost her?

Noon the next day found them driving along a narrow lane somewhere near Minchinhampton. A broad gateway flanked by two stone lions led by a winding route through extensive park lands to a large, Georgian mansion.

Carol parked in front of the house, slid out from beneath the steering wheel and walked confidently up the broad steps to the imposing front door where she pulled insouciantly upon the bell rope at its side, while Jane stood uncertainly at her cousin's side, a little over-awed by the grandeur and scale of their surroundings. Her equilibrium was further disturbed when the door was opened by an immaculately dressed Butler.

To Jane's secret admiration Carol was perfectly composed in the presence of this forbidding apparition.

“Good afternoon, Perkins,” she said airily. “We have an appointment with your Mistress!”

“Quite so, Miss Carol,” he murmured in reply. “Yourself and...?”

He glanced at Jane, an eyebrow raised in polite enquiry.

“My cousin; Jane,” explained Carol.

“Of course!” he gravely replied. “Good afternoon, Miss Jane. If the ladies will follow me...?”

On their way along the broad corridor, with its walls hung with paintings and its high ceiling, Jane's hand sought out that of her cousin for assurance, and it was thus they entered the large, sunny morning room; hand in hand like two children.

'Lady' Isobel turned out to be an incongruously large and jolly-looking woman in her middle years. When they were decorously ushered into the room, they found her poring over a pile of official looking documents, steel-rimmed pince-nez perched upon her ample nose. Perkins uttered a polite cough, and she looked up from her papers.

The smile of welcome on her face changed to one of tender and appreciative wonder when she saw them together. Two young, pretty girls, hand in hand, virginally fresh, and identically dressed from their tiny sandals to their simple dresses and even to the leather collars around their slender throats. Carol she had met on several occasions, but the other girl – who might well have been her twin – was unknown to her.

Introductions were made, Perkins was dispatched for refreshments, and the three settled down to the business of their meeting.

Isobel sat in a comfortable armchair, facing 'the twins', as she was already mentally thinking of them. They sat opposite on a sofa, close together as if loath to be separated. Every so often their hands would steal into each other's, and they spoke alternatively, often completing each other's sentences, obliging their hostess to look from one to other. marvelling as she did so at their uncanny resemblance to each other.

“We know it might be a problem,” began Carol.

“Because of it being a Female Domination event,” added Jane.

“But we wouldn't be attending as slaves,” said Carol.

“But as animals – female animals, of course!” her cousin said, giggling infectiously.

“So we could be hunted...” “Like the male slaves...” “Except that when we're caught...” “Our new owner would treat us as animals...” “We're very good at it – really!” Carol ended earnestly.

Isobel looked at their anxious faces and burst into helpless laughter, the tears running down her homely face.

“Oh, my dears!” she gasped. “Of course you may take part; if it was my sole decision. You shall both stay for lunch, and meet Lady Sarah – it's at her place that the Hunt is taking place. If she agrees – and I'm sure she will – the other Ladies will fall into line; I'm sure!”

With that, she sent them both off under the charge of Perkins to prepare for lunch.

In the large and luxurious bathroom, Carol acquainted Jane with the details of Lady Isobel's eccentric menage.

“Perkins is a permanent resident,” Carol informed her cousin. “He's a slave, of course. Did you notice his collar? It's silver, you know!”

Jane was astonished at this bland declaration. Carol went on.

“Lady Isobel has quite a few slaves. Some temporary – weekends and holidays, and so forth – and two or three permanent. We'll probably be waited on at lunch by one of her transvestite slave-maids.”

Jane giggled, and was about to express her amazement that anyone would want to be a transvestite, let alone a slave, before remembering her own reason for being here with Carol. Wisely, she remained silent and joined her cousin in the large shower.

Showered and lightly scented, they descended the sweeping staircase in Perkins' wake. By some triumph of organisation, their sandals had been cleaned and polished, and their dresses pressed and ironed during their brief absence in the bathroom.

They entered onto the sweeping terrace on which lunch was to be taken, Carol confidently – because she had met Lady Sarah before – and Jane timidly, her hand stealing again into that of her cousin to give her confidence.

Everything went perfectly swimmingly, Lady Sarah being as struck by the cousins as her friend. They departed with the assurance that the rest of the Ladies would agree to their presence, odd though this innovation was. But they were warned that one member of the Group, a certain 'Lady Noire', might be awkward about it.

CHAPTER TWO

Text shortened so it could be posted

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:23 PM

The porn star wetter

A fantasy about women using men.

Bob was just out of college and keen to use his degree in media studies. He wanted and fantasised about a job as a producer with hundreds of girls lusting after him. However after six months he was working in a local shop and fifty applications had produced nothing. Then he saw an advert for deputy production assistants for a company. He noticed that it was an adult film company but still applied considering himself open-minded and also knowing that it was easier to get a position that way. He was surprised when he was offered an interview and on reading the information discovered that it was a well established company and all the stuff in the leaflet was about pensions and other adult dull things. The salary was very good so he was surprised he had been considered. When he got to the interview he found he was one of six candidates and all were male. A panel of three including one tough looking woman interviewed him. She was Sandra Jones a very large lady in her forties with short mannish hair but massive breasts and she was quite aggressive towards Bob asking him quite a few personal questions. He tried to charm her but was sure he had failed. When all six had been interviewed they asked one a very handsome lad to go though a second time and Bob sat back annoyed not to have got the job. Then the secretary returned and called Bob out. He entered the room to find that it was just him and Sandra Jones.

She was sitting in an armchair and got Bob to sit opposite him and told him she had a few more questions. These turned out to be about his private life and he answered a little worried, as he was sure these were not the sort of questions relevant to the job. Finally she said to him, " I like you and the job is yours. However you have to sign a two-year fully binding contract. We are training you and I do not want you running off with our secrets!" Bob was jubilant and the thought of getting a real media position and said so. Sandra smiled and said, " Well you have one more test to pass and the last person refused it! However let me make it clear Bob you work for me as my deputy assistant. That is the lowest of the low Bob. Now I make lesbian porn movies but real ones! On my movies the girls really come my viewers insist! After all a woman knows when a girl is faking it! Any problems so far?" "No" "Good! Now part of your duties apart from my needs is to ensure that the actresses are ready to perform. Happy with that?" Bob was confused and looked blank so she said, "Male porn stars have someone on the set called a fluffer who gets them hard. Well on my sets its all female apart from one man and his job is to ensure the girls are wet and eager and sometimes to bring them off. We call him the wetter and that will be you!" Bob gasped at that and Sandra smiled and said, " Still want the job?" he considered carefully and realised that this was the only media job he had been offered and that after two years he would be experienced and able to get another position much easier so he said, " Yes! But how many and how often?" " Depends on the film and the girls! Most of the actresses I employ are mainly straight and girls do not push their buttons so you have too! However that is only part of your duties. You will be trained in all aspects of media as well by me! Plus baby you have to keep me happy understand!" Bob was confused and then blushed as he realised what the woman was getting at. However he loved sex and did not have a girlfriend at the minute and while she was ugly she was a woman so he nodded. Sandra smiled and said, " Good! Now your final test is to ensure you can do the wetting part of your duties! You can show me how you give head! Knell and lick me off honey!" And with that she pulled up her skirt and opened her thighs. Bob gasped at the sight of her large pale thighs and pussy covered in thick black matted hair. However he knelt and moved closer. Sandra did not taste over fresh as he got close but he moved closer and gently extended his tongue and licked her. She moaned and said, " More honey and deeper! I want to come!" Bob did as she ordered and was soon licking away. Sandra grabbed his head and pushed him hard against her so her pussy was in his mouth and he licked away as her thick juices filled his mouth. She came groaning after a few minutes and pushed him away. She stood and ordered him up saying, " Not bad at all baby! Now sign here honey! You start on Monday at ten!" Bob signed and when he had signed Sandra pinched his bottom and said, " Good! I am sure I am going to enjoy working you!" As the happy but slightly confused boy went home he wondered if she had meant working with him and hoped she had.

This is not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:24 PM

The wind blowing through her hair, as always, was invigorating to Janice. Not only did she enjoy driving her BMW convertible, but returning from a very successful and enjoyable weekend visit with one of her mentors added to her feeling of well being and contentment.

In fact, Janet was very, very happy as she continued to roll the figures over in her head and once again played through the day's conversation between her and Lee Morgan.

"Of course there is lots of money to be made with the breedings,"Lee had said, "but I want you to realize that the sale of the calf is just the tip of the iceberg as the less educated say. Besides purchasing the calf, which can net you between $25,000 and 50,000, there are other incomes that really push up the worth of not only this particular woman, but her daughter and the breeding line that you can establish. For example, at the breeding itself, a lot of clients will want to come and watch the proceedings. So right there, you can probably get between 6 and 10k per person per day!

"Now the owner of the bull will probably want half and I recommend you talk to Marissa, you remember her, the gal who sat next to you last night, about using her new bull Balthazar. He already has a following and you can probably count on 12 to 20 couples wanting to attend. That means that you can get another $200,000 for the breeding because Marissa prefers weekend events which generally last for about two days and are quite elegant. "

"And truth be told, I agree with that. They are more intimate and much more relaxed than the four or five hour breeding sessions we did in the old days. The guests actually become more acquainted with the cow and her calf and this builds future interest for the calving and the breed line, and of course that means you have a dedicated following and can count on more money in the future. And of course, if they come to the breeding, then you can probably count on a lot of those people coming to the calving. And now we can have the calving induced so you can actually schedule it, and again that could be another $200,000 even before the calf is sold."

"Additionally if you film the breeding and the calving and sell them on line at a protected web site or distribute them via CDs using some clandestine courier networks, you can easily double your money again without taking any more risk or doing any more work, or using any other cow."

Then Lee said, "Marissa also does an introductory weekend where the cow and her calf are entered into the herd and are marked with the herd signs. Now this may seem like a non event to you, but a large number of clients are quite interested in the reactions of both the cow and the calf when they first meet their bull and how they react to their markings. It is especially good when the calf knows that the cow will soon be bred with the bull and that in the future she too will be bred. I particularly like the way Marissa handles these events because they are generally much like a normal party. Even the calf and her cow dress up, looking fresh and happy, then about halfway through the night, the bull is brought in where they cow and calf first meet him. That in itself is great and then the questions from the other guests as they talk to the cow and her calf really play with their minds and it makes for a great evening."

This is not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:26 PM

WARNING: This story contains extreme racist scenes and slurs. This story takes place in the south before the civil war and is about a Caucasian girl dominating two Afro-Americans. In this story you may find racist slurs and the N-word used frequently. This is only to make the story more realistic and NOT to alienate or offend people of color

ABIGAIL’S TWO DAY GIFT

April 10, 1862, Huntsville, Alabama

It was a beautiful spring day. The sun was shining in the sky and everywhere on the plantation there was a cheerful atmosphere, cheerful as it can be, being a cotton plantation in the northern part of Alabama during the Civil War. Abigail Smith woke up on this beautiful day with a big smile on her face, it was her eighteenths birthday. For over five years she bugged her father, who was a slave owner, to buy her two private slaves that only she could punishing. For the past couple of years only she knew how wet she would get down there just thinking that one day two beautiful slaves will be in her possession.
Her dad owned a big plantation with hundreds of slaves but none of them tickled Abigail’s fancy. Every time she heard the whip cracking on one of her father’s Negroes she imagined herself being alone with a very pretty Negro girl. Sometimes late at night, whenever someone was punished, she would open her window and masturbate while listening to the sound of the whip cracking. She always wanted that power, and today she would get it. Today her father promised Abby to take her with him to the slave market and buy all the necessary tools in order for her to punish any slave she desired. Also her father told her that afterwards he will buy her two beautiful slave girls that would only answer to her. She was very exciting knowing the fun she will have with her new properties.
As she finished getting dressed she was disrupted by her father who entered the room with a gift. The package was a very long white box with a large red bow on it. As Abigail opened the box she was ecstatic to find a very long whip, with five leather tail, a rattan cane and a wooded paddle; this painful devices were given to her in order to properly train her slaves any time she wanted to. After she put on her leather boots, Abby and father left for the slave market.
On the way, Abby’s heart was pounding like a drum; she couldn’t wait to get her hand on the two Negroes that soon will be in her care. Ridding through the hot humid weather of Alabama, Abby imagined her perfect slaves; tall will dark skin, perky round breasts and asses she could whip anytime she felt like it. Thinking about the fun she will have with her Negroes she started to get a little wet. The tension was really killing her.

Not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:27 PM

'I'd be lying if I wouldn't admit that I realized in
a lot of things I'm a bit, sort of, stupid and slow. And
it takes me about, kind of like, 10 years later than my
fellow girlfriends in, kind of like...finding out about
certain things, and...I would basically say that, you know,
I'm a bit, sort of stupid and a bit sort of slow, you know,
and... I think it's lot to do with my...inability to...
take in and learn about things with my brain. I kind of
have to do it with my senses, is kind of all I got, really.
And when you do things like that it takes ages, you know.
And I, for example #like#, no way I can drive a car. I had
a car for one year and I think I crashed it, sort of...
twice a month. And it's just to clever for me, you know,
it's got no logic, traffic - just got no logic for me.'
Me, Dec. 1th 1993 on Swedish TV1

http://www.abc.se/~m8996/bjork/interviw/ansikte.html

Me, Björk Guðmundsdottír, 39 years old, admit to have been wrong all my life until now. I have been wrong about myself and womans in general. Although, my distinctive original style of music and singing made me famous and respected as a self-made woman, i now realize i made a mistake. I should not believe that a woman can be smart and independent. I should not believe either that i can continue to pretend being an exception, a special woman. Because, inside of me, all i see is just another talentless brainless bimbo pop tart who only want to demonstrate her inferior status by humiliating herself in public.

Recently, my new husband have convinced me to submit to all his wishes and become his property for life and without a pause. He made me realize who i truly was. After the waking call of mature singers/songwriters like Jewel (31 years old) and Liz Phair (38 years old) who deliberately give up their independence they fought so hard to get, and happily destroyed their reputation of strong womans by following the example of embarrassingly younger teen idols, I, Björk Guðmundsdottír, decided to do the same in a really near future as I too deserve (and will enjoy so much) to be retrograded to the status of a sex object. Knowing what it is to be seen as an equal and even a superior creature, I, declare that i will not miss any of my old life.

not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:34 PM

The Cruel Game of Backgammon
by Ashley Zacharias

“Why backgammon?”
“Because it has been called a cruel game and I want to play a cruel game.” Leslie smiled at her friend.
“It’s cruel because you’re going to give yourself a penalty for losing?” Craig frowned in return.
“No. The game is cruel in itself.”
“How can backgammon be cruel apart from your self-imposed penalties? It’s just a dice game.”
“It’s cruel because of the element of chance. There’s a lot of strategy behind backgammon, but if you get bad rolls, you lose even if you play well. The cruel part about that is not losing but that it keeps poor players from getting better. They spend their whole lives playing badly and cursing the dice. They don’t even try to learn to play properly.”
“How much does chance matter?”
“It depends. If two people play exactly the same, then the outcome is determined completely by the dice. On the other hand if one player plays really badly and the other really well, then the bad player will almost always lose. But it’s never certain. Sometimes, the dice will be against the better player and it does not matter how brilliantly she plays.”
“Do you think that you play well?”
Leslie smiled. “I think that I play well. Most of the time, I beat most of the people on the Internet who call themselves ‘experts’.”
“And you’re willing to put that to the test?”
“You mean, I’m willing to suffer a penalty if I lose? Yes.”
“The penalties in these envelopes?” Craig nudged the three manila envelopes that were stacked next to the computer.
Leslie’s heart skipped a beat, thinking about the instructions that she had sealed into the envelopes last night. “Yes. I’ll play three matches against strangers on the Internet. If I lose one match, then I’ll suffer the somewhat uncomfortable and humiliating penalty in Envelope One; two matches, the rather painful and decidedly degrading penalty in Envelope Two; and if I lose all three matches… Well, I don’t want even to think about what I put in Envelope Three.”
“So I’ll be the referee for your games today and I’ll administer the penalty next week if you lose.”
“Right.”
“Why the six-day delay?”
“If I lose, it will give me ample time to ponder the foolishness of my bet.”
“Well, if this is how you want it, then so be it.”
“Thank-you, Craig. I want you to know how much I appreciate your help. It’s a lot safer having you administer my penalty than trying to do it alone to myself. And I can be a lot more imaginative if I don’t always have to use handcuffs and wait for ice to melt. Not every girl is lucky enough to have someone that she can trust as much as I trust you.”

not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:35 PM

Katie Billingsley shifted in the hard, uncomfortable chair. It had been hours since she had eaten, and she was exhausted from the sleep-deprived night. Nothing she had been through could ever have prepared herself for this torture. She was beside herself. What could have gone wrong? She asked herself this question over and over, pointlessly.
“Mrs. Billingsley, the president will see you now,” the young, buxom receptionist sneered, not bothering to look up from her computer screen.
“Th-thank you,” Katie stammered, inching her way to the gargantuan set of walnut doors that enclosed the decorative entrance hall to the office of Forrester Davison, the richest man in Mulvane County, Tennessee.
Davison had grown up in the same, small town as Katie, but had never gone to the local schools. His father, Tyler Davison, was a violent snob and had sent young Forrester away to school at an early age. While his massive wealth would have been enough to ostracize Forrester from the rest of the town of Bigelow, his unrelenting stutter, shy demeanor, weight and skin problems, and sheer physical absence from the area guaranteed him the position of the town outcast.
Following the death of his father, Forrester had returned to Bigelow to purchase all three of the county’s savings and loans. The small, geographically-obtuse acquisition was a source of irritation to the board members of Davison Magnafunds, the nationwide chain of financial institutions that the man now commandeered as a CEO. It mystified Wall Street and the financial press as to why a man of wealth and Ivy League education would choose to not only purchase a few rural farming banks, but also decide to --- god forbid --- live in Tennessee.
After traveling down the long wood-paneled corridor, Katie found herself in an ostentatiously palatial office, nearly twice the size of her

not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:37 PM

Bimboization of Björk

by senilbjork in 2005

(This fiction, a false public letter by Björk in which real facts make it sound more real and probable is an exploration of real self-imposed bimboization by strong independent womans. Can Björk, already a senil goldfish, resist the temptation any longer ?)

'I'd be lying if I wouldn't admit that I realized in
a lot of things I'm a bit, sort of, stupid and slow. And
it takes me about, kind of like, 10 years later than my
fellow girlfriends in, kind of like...finding out about
certain things, and...I would basically say that, you know,
I'm a bit, sort of stupid and a bit sort of slow, you know,
and... I think it's lot to do with my...inability to...
take in and learn about things with my brain. I kind of
have to do it with my senses, is kind of all I got, really.
And when you do things like that it takes ages, you know.
And I, for example #like#, no way I can drive a car. I had
a car for one year and I think I crashed it, sort of...
twice a month. And it's just to clever for me, you know,
it's got no logic, traffic - just got no logic for me.'
Me, Dec. 1th 1993 on Swedish TV1

http://www.abc.se/~m8996/bjork/interviw/ansikte.html

Me, Björk Guðmundsdottír, 40 years old, admit to have been wrong all my life until now. I have been wrong about myself and womans in general. Although, my distinctive original style of music and singing made me famous and respected as a self-made woman, i now realize i made a mistake. I should not believe that a woman can be smart and independent. I should not believe either that i can continue to pretend being an exception, a special woman. Because, inside of me, all i see is just another talentless brainless bimbo pop tart who only want to demonstrate her inferior status by humiliating herself in public.

Recently, my new husband have convinced me to submit to all his wishes and become his property for life and without a pause. He made me realize who i truly was. After the waking call of mature singers/songwriters like Jewel (31 years old) and Liz Phair (38 years old) who deliberately give up their independence they fought so hard to get, and happily destroyed their reputation of strong womans by following the example of embarrassingly younger teen idols, I, Björk Guðmundsdottír, decided to do the same in a really near future as I too deserve (and will enjoy so much) to be retrograded to the status of a sex object. Knowing what it is to be seen as an equal and even a superior creature, I, declare that i will not miss any of my old life.

Britney Spears have made it right as a woman and deserve to be respected much more than Liz Phair, Jewel and I. She's a real wom

not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:39 PM

Blackmailing Joe

Conferences are always a lot of fun. Joe uses them to get away from the wife and kid just for a few days a couple of times a year. Don’t get him wrong… Joe loves his wife and kid, but it is always nice to get away and loosen up.

This conference isn’t different. He gets to go to Mexico for four days during the off-season, so the only people around are the fellow conference-goers. The first day there he notices a nice looking woman. She isn’t the typical Barbie doll looking bimbo most middle-aged guys drool over, but he thinks she is very attractive. She is probably in her early 30’s, tall, dark hair, and very well endowed. She is just his type. He could tell she is slightly uncomfortable with her appearance so she does not dress showing as much skin as most of the girls at the conference, but that makes her more attractive to him.

Joe watches her for the three days during the meetings and even speaks to her at the final dinner the night before they are all to go home. Her name is Shirley and she only lives a few hours from him, working in the HR department of the same organization he works for. She is well spoken but somewhat shy. He finds her very interesting and loses himself in conversation. She explains how she is recently divorced and having the time of her life as this is her first time away from home on her own. Before he knows it, the dinner is over and they are the only two left in the restaurant. Joe is not the kind of guy to go out looking for an affair, so they say their good nights, and go to their respective rooms for the night. As he showers, he cannot get the image of Shirley’s face out of his mind… the way she laughs at his old, tired jokes. As he stands there with the hot water pouring over his head and down his body, he notices his dick getting hard while he thinks about her. He reaches down and takes his cock in his soapy hand. The thought of what those huge tits must look like is more than he can handle. Within a couple of moments, he climaxes with his head spinning. This is something he has rarely done in the past decade or so, but he just could not help himself… there is just something intoxicating about this woman. He spends the rest of the nigh thinking about her as he has done in his room every night since he met her.

Joe gets up early the morning he is to leave. His flight isn’t until the evening, but he knows he has to check out of his room, so he packs up and takes his bags out to his rental car. It is raining really hard. When he gets the car loaded he turns around and notices that Shirley is trying to change her tire in the rain. She is wearing a very nice white blouse that was completely soaked where he can see her lace bra. It immediately gets his attention as he looks around and notices there isn’t anyone around to help her, so he walks over and offers her a hand. She looks up and smiles at him, thanking him for being such a gentleman. It was all he can do not to stare right at her wet, hard nipples showing through the flimsy top.

It does not take long, but as hard as it was raining, Joe is also soaked all the way through by the time he finishes even thought Shirley is holding an umbrella for him. He keeps telling her to go in to the hotel and he will be right in, but she refuses to leave him there. While he is working, she explains that she has decided to stay a few extra days because

not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:40 PM

The Chair of Four Pleasures

I arrived early at the headquarters of Passionella, one of the UK’s leading lingerie fashion houses based in Mayfair, London, England. I was there for my training session and Charlotte the Marketing and Training Manager was already waiting for me in reception. As instructed, I had dressed simply as, in Charlotte's words, 'everything you need will be provided'. I hadn't seen Charlotte in ages and we kissed each other’s cheeks like old friends. We sat down over a coffee and I brought her up to date on my ‘mystery shopper’ visits, even though she saw all of my reports.

Charlotte led me into the Silver private room and locked the door. She also slipped a latch across on the small door opposite, which I now knew led to private staircase used exclusively by Linda the president of Passionella UK. She reminded me why I was there and immediately started to explain the technical features of the Chair of Four Pleasures to me.

But I couldn't keep my eyes off Charlotte. Despite being very slim, with small 32A breasts hardly discernible under her loose clothes, I found her irresistible. The memories of my 'aptitude test' when I first joined Passionella flooded back and I wanted to see her slight body naked again.

Interrupting, I asked her why Linda calls it the ‘chair of four pleasures’.

"Rather than tell you, I suggest I demonstrate," she proposed. What a terrific idea.

"The first pleasure is the pleasure you can give to yourself, Charlotte explained. "These chairs are designed to provide every possible position for rewarding and exciting masturbation. Some clients like to lock themselves away alone and explore their own sensuality in private. Here, settle back and I'll show you."

I sat back in the chair and Charlotte pressed some buttons on the remote. The chair reclined and lifted my legs a little; it was supremely comfortable. Charlotte stepped towards me, continuing: "You won't appreciate the full benefit dressed like that”, upon which she unbuttoned my top, helping me to slip it off my shoulders. Then, raising the leg-rests so my bum was off the seat, she unzipped my jeans and pulled them down over my thighs and off over my ankle-boots. I lay back in my leopard-print bra and panties and Charlotte adjusted the chair some more, explaining which controls affected which element of the chair. She raised my legs high and wide apart and, without asking, secured some soft cuffs around my ankles. "Your legs won't get tired", she explained.

"Go on, try it," she encouraged. Try what? Give myself pleasure? I had to admit, the position was highly conducive to finger-frigging so I ran my fingertip over my pussy mound, concealed as it was by my sheer Linda-esque leopard-print panties. I shuddered as I ran my nails over my clit. I'd suppressed my desires for most of the week but now I was ready to let go. The whole atmosphere was just right for sex; the room, the chair, and Charlotte. She made warm noises of encouragement. "See, isn't it just perfect?"

I had to agree, but was not ready to come just yet.

not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:41 PM

Chapter 7

Robbie opened his eyes groggy in another strange place. The room offered no light but his body was not trapped as it had been. His hands explored carefully the surface around him; cries escaped his mouth as the movement made pain surged through his body. From his own best guess, he lay on a thin mattress upon a floor but what laid beyond that was an unknown. Any attempt to move only resulted in screams that pounded off the walls. What had happened to him? What left his body in such a horrid case of distress? Agony covered every inch of his body.

The truth slowly hit Robbie. The first encounter with job that was too good to be true. Tears rolled down his face, it was too good to be true. The first encounter was filled with a fiery passion he had not before experienced. But now it was coldness, nothing but horrific pain and fear. The woods, he had tried to run away. Robbie’s heart sank deep in his chest, but he had been captured. Oh god, that’s what had happened to his body. The beating, the beating it refused to end. The small chamber with the burning liquid, Robbie’s skin crawled. Was this his slow death?

There was one final undeniable thought that Robbie now knew. Whoever he had been, whatever life had once lived; it would never be again. This man had kidnapped him for his own sick pleasure, now whatever those pleasures would be Robbie was left with no choice but compliance. Somehow he had to find that playful fun flogging that he first experienced with the Man or was that person just a fraud as to draw him back.

Robbie shivered, it felt so cold. But with every movement his muscles overwhelmed him with an unbearable burning pain. Robbie searched for that dark place in his mind where the pain ceased to exist, but it could not be found. He had come so far to escape this kind of fate. Feeling defeated as if this was what God had intended for him. Thinking back to his stepfather and the hell he had lived there.

“No!” he cursed to himself he wouldn’t go back there. That place didn’t exist anymore then the rest of his past. Darkness flooded him.

Slave…slave…slave…how the word taunted him! Robbie saw it float in the darkness. A new thought drifted through his weary mind… survive as slave… there had to be a way to reach out of this hole. Slave… what had it meant… what would this Master want from him? What would avoid …. Deafening screams startled Robbie who took a moment before he realized they were his own.

Slaveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee pounded in his brain as he found that dark hole far away from his body…. Slave.

**Three Months Later**

Robbie paced the small cell anxious. He had not seen his Master since that last horrible beating, where He had been was not any of Robbie’s concern as he was told over and over again. But today was the day, Sir had told him today was the day his Master would return. His body had healed but scars reminded Robbie of that night. It reminded it had been real, the pain the experience had been real, not a dark dream. Sir had been watching him, caring for him. It had been a peaceful time while Charlie had been away but it ended today.

Robbie’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach, what awaited him drove him insane. Sir was forever vague a repeat of just be a good boy, your Master will return soon. Slave, yes, Robbie had come to accept it in the darkness of his room. He cried it in his sleep over and over again. When today was He to come? Robbie worried Sir had only said at breakfast to prepare today was the day. Robbie mumbled over and over to himself obey anything just do it.

not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:43 PM

Chapter One: A blank Page.

Sweat dripped down Nathan’s face. Trish, his girlfriend writhed on all fours in front of him, her ass slapping his hips with every thrust. They were both eighteen years old, and tonight was their last night. Tomorrow she would leave for college, and Nathan would continue on in town with out her.

“Spank my ass Nate.” She said looking back over her left shoulder. Perspiration beading on her face, her brown hair tangled in it and stuck to her. He let a half-hearted palm drop with a smack.

“Harder.” No more looking back, just head down, teeth grinding.

Bang. This time he gave her his right palm, and with a bit more force. Feeling the burning building inside him, he grunted loud, and tried to hold off. For distraction he let his left hand fly again, then the right again alternating from holding either side of her hips, and slapping her.

“Pull…my…hair.” Trish’s voice was barely clear enough to understand now, her own orgasm approaching.

With his right hand on the small of her back, he leaned in and snatched her brown locks with his left. Nate was in another world now. They had only done it four times before anyway, but all four had been standard missionary. Tonight was new, tonight Trish had wanted to try something different, and now she was asking for things he had never thought she wanted. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his head was swimming. Orgasm the only thing his body wanted now, his head finally gave up the battle.

Nathan was hit with the most powerful feeling in his short sexual career. When his balls started to pump, he lost control of his balance, and was unaware when he leaned forward and rammed Trish into the pillow. His hand still clutching the back of her head as she hit her own climax.

Four minutes later they were both aware enough to disengage. Both were huffing for air through wide sloppy smiles. It took them the better part of ten minutes to calm, and then Trish wordlessly rose and started for her clothes. Nate gawked at her skinny form as she dressed before he gathered his words.

“What was that all about, the spanking and stuff?” He said.

“I wanted to try it out…since I’m leaving. What did you think?” She was fastening her bra now, and was already wearing her plain white panties.

“Awesome, sorry about smothering you.” Now he was sitting up in his bed and lacing his hands behind his head.

not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:44 PM

Chapter Two: Discovering Talent

Forty-five minutes later, Nathan stepped out of his bedroom freshly showered and wearing a white pullover that he could have sworn fit him loosely last week, but now was gripping him tightly across the chest and arms. Dismissing it, he saw dad right where he had been when Nathan went to the shower, at the table depressed. So Nathan wordlessly sat in the living room chair, and thumbed the TV remote to begin waiting.

Just a bit later Candy walked right into the house. She was wearing cut off shorts, and a yellow halter shirt that revealed her midriff. Kicking off her flip-flops as she entered, both Prescott men could see her smiling. They both smiled back.

“I know it’s a bit late for lunch, but I took a gamble and brought some anyway.” She said as she crossed the room to the kitchen and placed her bag on the table. Leaning over George she kissed him lightly and then began unloading the bag.

She had brought soup and sandwiches from a deli near her apartment, and they all ate together talking about her life. Candy sat in George’s lap through out the entire affair. The stripper detailed herself to the Prescott’s without prodding, and Nathan watched his father relax almost from the moment she entered, and finally settle into a zone of comfort as they all talked.

The name wasn’t Candy, but actually Melanie. She was only thirty years old, and lived alone, having no children. It seemed that she had divorced two years ago, and the ex had left her with nothing but bad credit. They had been living lavishly for their income, and he had ‘taken care’ of everything financially. After the split he took off to some other state and disappeared. The creditors had pounced on her afterward and she hadn’t tried to do anything but pay. The job she had as a secretary didn’t pay nearly enough to take care of anything though. Collections took her car, and the house she had bought with him. So her clothes had come down, and her income rose. Melanie had finally covered all the debts a few months ago, and was now just saving to leave dancing altogether. Her plan was to keep at it until her body said it was time to quit, and go back to secretarial work, hopefully with a nice house and car in hand.

Knowing what was going to happen next, Nathan made some excuses, grabbed his keys, and rose to leave. When he looked back through the window before starting his truck he saw Melanie pulling the yellow top over her head, still sitting in dad’s lap.

He was planning on buying a cell phone, and killing some time. But ended up meandering around the mall after purchasing a phone instead. Being in control of things made him feel different from the people he walked past. All Nathan would need was just one hair, and anyone of them would do whatever he asked. It made him feel confident, setting himself apart from them…special.

not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:45 PM

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
One of the real joys of the holiday season is how the kink community comes together to celebrate. It seems that everyone is allowed to let their hair down that much more, to party like pagans, and to lose him or herself to pure hedonistic pleasure. This holiday season, the Houston kink community was coming together not only to celebrate in grand style, to say goodbye to ’05 and usher in a brand spanking new year, literally and figuratively, but also to raise funds for those in their BDSM family that were displaced by Hurricane Katrina. Meaning, quite bluntly, insurance companies left many Black Dominas from Crescent City to fend for themselves when it came to replacing many of their custom built pieces of furniture, equipment, and paraphernalia while their white counterparts got a check cut, no questions asked. Houston PEP recognized the disparity and decided to have a fundraiser for its newly adopted Lousiana transplants to help them re-establish themselves and to embrace them with open arms and have a hell of a blowout party at the same time.
The generosity of the partygoers that evening was beyond compare. People brought everything from whips and paddles to swings and straight jackets, to a St. Andrew’s Cross and everything in between. One generous benefactor was even kind enough to donate space so that Mistresses Eden, Cree, Ana, Ebony, and Chocolate would have a place to set up shop without much hassle. Electricity was in the air as the ladies mixed and mingled among their newfound family to introduce themselves. Charlie Papadopoulos was particularly aroused at the presence of the guests of honor.

not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-14-2005, 06:47 PM

I will post more tomorrow please do not reply to this thread---if one of the stories is yours just PM me or email me and let me know the # of the story at the top and I will do my best to work with you to get it published --I have over a hunderd of these

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:13 PM

IF YOU READ PART ONE YOU KNOW THAT THESE PEOPLE ARE SUPPOSED TO GO CAMPING IN THIS INSTALLMENT. FOR SOME REASON I’M NOT SURE OF THEY HAVEN’T YET.

A couple of years back, before her dad had become so fond of disciplining her, and prior to her seeing his violent nature emerging (although she figured out pretty quickly that her mom had experienced some pain at his hands by then) Cindy’s dad had, one day, taken her to a house a few blocks from their own home. Inside, she had waited in the living room while her father and the woman of the house, Nora Timmons, had gone into Nora’s bedroom. Cindy could here them in there fucking their brains out. She was young, but she had known what she was hearing. Cindy was shocked. She wasn’t just surprised her dad would be with another women; she was upset that he would make sure she knew what he was up to. She waited for him, embarrassed, angry and impatient. When he was through, he and Cindy got in his truck to go home.
“Mom would be so hurt,” she said, “It’s not right what you’re doing.”
He’d smiled. “I’ll ask Bob Timmons if he though your mom was upset.”
“He was at our house?”
“Uh huh.”
When they’d arrived home her mom had been angry and spoke in short, clipped, accusatory tones to her dad. Finally, she found some courage and got to what was on her mind. “I’m not some piece of property to pass around with your buddies,” she’d said, glaring at him. Her dad’s features clouded. He had roughly grabbed Cindy’s mom and taken her down to the basement. She could here him yelling at her down there and Cindy crept down the stairs and saw what he was doing to her. He took her mom to a work bench where he bent her hips over the rough thing and tied her wrists and ankles to the legs of the bench. He whipped her ass hard with his leather belt, yelling at her about doing a woman’s duty and what it means for a man to run the household. Finished with the beating, he got serious. He forced a length of ridged metal pipe into her rectum and began heating it with a blow torch.
“Gonna do what you’re told?”
“YES! YES! YES!” She started screaming for him to stop. “PLEASE! IT HURTS! OOOOWWWW!!!”
“You do as you’re fucking told!” He turned the torch off and watched his wife squirm in pain.
“I will! I will! I swear!”
“Fucking better. You think about your smart mouth for a bit.”
Cindy got out before her dad saw her. He came up the stairs alone, face a mask of pure rage and he left her mom tied up in the basement all night. Cindy thought about untying her but she imagined that metal rod in her own ass, glowing red with heat, burning her insides, her father taking off his belt to whip her and she couldn’t find the courage to interfere.

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:14 PM

He arrived early for their scheduled meeting and sat in his car sweating profusely. He wasn’t sure he could go through with it; terrified at the thought of meeting the Ebony goddess of his dreams. Part of him wanted to turn around and leave and never look back but this was the opportunity of a lifetime. He had jerked off and fantasized about an opportunity such as this for a very long time.

At exactly 8:00 he rang her buzzer. She lived in a luxury condo like he’d never seen before. She opened the door and welcomed him in. “Hello it’s a pleasure o finally meet you. Please do come in.” Her home was just as lovely as she was. She was wearing a silk dress the color of cinnamon and complemented her mocha colored skin. It hugged the curves of her body perfectly and showed off her magnificent behind as she walked in front of him to invite him to sit. She was gracious, “Would you care for a drink to calm you down, you look nervous.”

He shook his head, almost afraid to speak. His hands were sweating and he wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen so he has rather nervously and looked around at all the Black art and the exquisite furnishings, waiting for instructions.

She sat in a chair across from him and crossed her legs. He couldn’t help but stare at her bare feet with her toes painted red and all the way up to her shapely calves and thighs. She was making pleasant conversation but he wasn’t really paying attention, he was wondering how a gorgeous woman like that could even think about doing something as nasty and perverted as she had proposed to do.

He wouldn’t have to wait long to get what he desired. She grabbed her stomach and held it as her face showed signs of discomfort. “There’s no reason for small talk, you aren’t here because I want to be your friend. You came here for a reason and I’ve been holding this all day long and I can’t hold it much longer.” She stood up and came over to where he was seated on the sofa. She slowly turned around and lifted the back of her dress. “Put your face in there,” she instructed. As she nuzzled his nose in the crack of her panty covered ass, she let out a fart and he inhaled it like it was perfume. She stood up and said, “Let’s get to it, shall we?”

He stood as if in a daze. She led him to a bedroom and flipped the light switch. It had been converted to a playroom of sorts, not really a dungeon, but a definitely a room for some serious play. The walls were painted deep red and candles lit the room. The candles made the room a little warm for his taste and he felt himself starting to sweat.

“Take off your clothes and lay on the floor over there.” She pointed to corner of the room that had a rim seat attached to the floor. He undressed quickly and got into position. His hands covered his erection and he turned to see that she was getting undressed. All she had to do was unzip her dress and let it slide to the floor. She was breathtaking in the soft candlelight and he started stroking his cock as he saw her body of perfection. She wore a black bra and panty set made of lace and she bent over and slid the panties past her full hips. Her ass was the stuff dreams were made of and he could barely see the full lips of her pussy as she showed off her butt.

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:16 PM

An Inquisitive Federal Agent
East Coast Slaver Organization Story - XII
Chapter 10 – The Slaver’s Women (or Whatta Lifestyle)
Across town, in an upscale cosmetic surgery clinic, Doctor Joan Miller was still working on her latest project. “Actually,” she muttered to herself as she pulled yet another suture tight on the abused pussy widespread before her, “it’s a pain in the ass; I’ve been up all night working to save her life and put her back together again. I’m supposed to be keeping in shape for my next stint out in New Mexico.” She was angry for several reasons. Obviously, she was angry at the brutal damage that had been done to her unnamed subject. Her slaver friend had explained that he’d rescued her from two murderous thugs hired by the poor idiot’s own boyfriend, a married man with two daughters. Joan was happy that she’d seen with her own eyes the digital pictures of the now dead murderers. She paused in her mental tirade against stupid men to straighten out the swollen pussy lips to see if they’d been sewn up straight. “Don’t want scars down here,” she mumbled aloud as she visualized the next time that a big, fat cock thundered its way up the poor woman’s vagina. “Scars rip too easily,” she told herself, “they don’t stretch well at all.” Joan had repaired internal tears as well as bringing the shredded labia to the closest semblance of normal that she could, it has taken hours of painstaking surgery.

Gloria Waters was now the anonymous patient of a well-respected and married cosmetic surgeon. Certainly, Gloria was in talented medical hands; but there was some question as to what effect the doctor’s post-surgery recovery process might have on the patient. What few knew was that Doctor Miller was also a volunteer doctor at a local B&D club and that her very twisted psyche made her a dominate, a submissive, a Ponygirl Mistress, and even a Ponygirl herself. She was happily married to a rancher out west and she spent part of each month as respected cosmetic surgeon, part of the month as wife and dominate in charge of the slaves on her husband’s ranch, and part of the month as a helpless sextoy and a working Ponygirl on that same ranch. Doctor Joan Miller was a very complex, and beautiful woman. Gloria Waters would waken to find that her doctor owned her body and soul until she was fully healed from all her rounds of surgery, at least six to eight weeks away. Then she would begin service as a full-time slave to the man she tried to cheat out of hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Joan carefully disinfected the ripped-open breast meat on the unconscious woman’s right tit. It was very clear that it would take additional surgery to repair the areola and nipple to any semblance of normal. “What kind of nerve damage you have here is a question we will have to wait on for an answer,” she said softly, speaking to herself, mostly to remain calm at the damage to the woman’s body. Doctor Miller glanced up at the repairs she’d already made on the woman’s cheeks and tongue. There would be visible scars on the face to deal with latter on as well. She sighed and returned to work with scalpel and needle. “Whatta fucking mess! “

Finished with the first round of immediate repairs on the woman, Joan stripped off her surgical gloves and stretched. The move brought her swollen mounds forward and she couldn’t help but think of the two men who’d so modified her breasts. “When I begged Robert, the slaver, to let me ‘vacation’ at a Ponygirl training facility, I had no idea what I was in for. The new breasts he gave me are nice though.” Joan squeezed her breasts and thought of the difference it made when Robert (Robert Morgan – the name by which Joan knew Aaron Clarke) decided on his own to change them from a B to a full C cup. She squeezed them again and felt a twinge of passion that jetted from her swollen teats to her pussy. Joan moaned and hurried out of the operating room, it would take hours for her patient to begin to shake off the effects of the anesthesia, and she desperately needed to milk her boobs; besides, it was almost time for her mandatory 5:30 AM milking. She rubbed her tummy with one hand and held her bouncing boobs with her other, Joan was several months pregnant and she’d been lactating for five months, ever since she’d ‘allowed’ herself to be placed on a special hormonal diet by Joseph Loftus, her lean and domineering rancher husband.

Joan had returned from her ‘vacation’ trip out west newly married, weeks pregnant, and already with swelling hooters. Her formerly beautiful but pampered body had been sculpted into a precision running machine during her strenuous Ponygirl training. Several months after she returned to Miami, she’d traveled to the Saudi Peninsula for the adventure of a lifetime; a Ponygirl race impossible to finish. It was the grueling ‘Ocean of Fire’ [read E.C.S.O. – 11: A Race to End All Races], a thirty-five day race across more than a thousand miles of inhospitable burning desert, a certain path to death or slavery. Somehow, she and her new husband had not only survived the impossible race, they won it and returned to the states with money and slaves.

Her cramped run toward a well-secured, locked room at the back of the clinic was graceless and reminded her of how the changes in her body had already made her into an unlikely Ponygirl. It was almost 5:30 in the morning, and she didn’t dare be late. She locked the door behind her and desperately began to strip off her clothes. Her milk-swollen torpedoes were making her desperate; they were anything but the size B and then size C cup she’d had in her life before conversion to a Ponygirl. The hormones had puffed them up into obscenely heavy, meaty Double Ds at the least. The pressure made her glad she’d made it to her ‘milking room’. Joan barely took the time to lock the door behind her as she hurried toward her ‘milking station’.

Joseph Loftus, her fiancé at the time, found out before the start of the Ocean of Fire race that Joan had placed contraceptive slivers in his new Ponygirls, thwarting his plan to breed them and to make milk mares out of them. Ultimately, he realized that she had been correct in what she did; but nonetheless, he had to either punish Joan or take steps to ensure that she would follow even the orders she found distasteful. The ‘milking station’ was the result.

Completely designed and built from scratch to capture, milk, and inoculate lactating Ponymares, the frame was a piece of art that could best be described in common terms as a hyper-modified bicycle frame linked to a computer workstation and high-speed internet access. Three times a day, Joan straddled her milking station and kicked one bare foot into a self-locking stirrup. Then she grabbed a tiny set of handlebars and raised her crotch high up over a floppy six-inch long dildo. Desperate to get relief from the pressure in her breasts, Joan slammed her drooling cunt down a little too hard on the cock and grunted when her pubic area struck the tiny saddle extending an inch from the base of the cock on the sides and three inches forward and aft of the rubbery dildo. A click heralded the locking of Joan’s other foot in a stirrup.

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:17 PM

Full story now published ----- http://www.bdsmlibrary.com/stories/chapter.php?storyid=4057&chapterid=16115

Edna’s Basement

By Missy_Beauty1985and MillieTeases

Missy_Beauty1985 - ] - had the ideas for this story. Millie Teases put the words down and incorporated the edits Missy suggested. This is their first collaboration.

Chapter 1. Missy Revealed

Missy looked out the window and watched as her Mom got into Bob's truck.
He was kind of gross - when she'd let him earlier it was pretty clear that
he hadn't shaved that day and his fingernails were dirty and he smelled like
he'd been drinking beer. Her mom hadn't seemed to notice any of this - not
that she ever did these days - and had told Missy not to wait up when she
was walking out the door.

It was not like she would - it was Friday night and her Mom didn't work
on weekends, so she usually didn't come home until late on Sunday - if she came home at all. The idea that she would go to church never entered her head. And she made fun of Missy every time Missy would ask her to come to church or Sunday school.

Missy had started going to church not long after they had moved to Hillsboro. Mom and Dad had divorced, and Mom decided they should move back closer to her sister. But Aunt Jane and her family had moved away only a few months after they got there, and Missy was pretty shy, so she hadn’t made many friends at school. When a flyer came one day from the church that was a couple of blocks away, Missy asked her mother if she could go. Mom had, reluctantly, said yes. That was five years ago. Now Missy was a leader in the youth group, helped with the 4-year old Sunday school class, and had been the first in the church to sign the “pure until marriage” pledge.

Once Bob's car had turned the corner and driven out of site, Missy sat
down at her desk. She was feeling particularly lonely and upset that night. She'd
gotten the letter that day saying that Wesley Christian College had turned her down. She’d tried to have a good Christian attitude about it – after all, the letter had said that it was particularly difficult to turn down as many students as they had, and it encouraged her to apply again in a year, if she could get her grades up a little.

Well, there was always Alamance community college. As long as she lived at home she could avoid the temptations that living in a dorm would have provided. (Missy had heard terrible stories about life in public college dormitories – boys on the floor at all hours, all night parties with lots of drinking, and roommates who fornicated right in front of you.) She picked up her Bible and idly opened it up. There was always inspiration there.

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:18 PM

My Girlfriend’s “Alpha Male” Ex-Boyfriend

Part 1: The Honeymoon Phase of my relationship with Lisa

When I first met Lisa it was love at first sight. She was a 28-year-old beauty, with long brown hair, a pretty face with amazing brown eyes, a nice slim body, and long athletic tan legs. I’m an average looking guy at best, with limited experience with women. So normally, I wouldn’t have even tried for her. But something about her propelled me to pursue her. To make a long story short, she let me take her to lunch a few times and I got to know her. She was living with a guy named Scott who was apparently really good looking, but he had a serious cocaine problem. I feel deeply in love with her and then she let me know she just wanted to be friends. I was devastated.

A few years went by. I couldn’t get over her, and fantasized about her constantly. About that time she surprised me with a phone call and said she had been thinking about me, and wondered if I’d like to get together with her and catch up. It was a dream come true for me. Within a few months, we were a couple. Our sex life was a little strange though. She wouldn’t have intercourse with me, even using a condom (she said she was paranoid about getting pregnant, and couldn’t take the pill). The only things she would allow was kissing, and then each of us using our hands to get the other off.

Early in the relationship I tried to bring up my sexual fantasies a few times, which involve being treated badly by attractive women (verbal abuse, humiliation, cuckolding, pain, etc.). She said she didn’t want to hear about that stuff. So I was surprised about eight months into the relationship, when she took a sudden interest in my sexual fantasies. Whenever she was stroking my cock, she would make me “spill my guts” and tell her every dark fantasy I had. She would bring me to the edge of orgasm and then stop. And then bring me to the edge again, and stop. I was so crazed with lust and love for her, I told her everything: My fantasies, my insecurities, the things that turned me on about her, etc. etc.

Little did I know there was a calculating and brutal purpose behind all her probing and questioning? It all became clear one Friday evening when I came home from work and my life changed forever. I came home to find Lisa dressed provocatively in a pair of short jean cutoffs and black Jack Daniel’s t-shirt cut off under her breasts to expose her taught midsection and pieced belly button. She said she wanted to “play” and said she wanted to tie me up. Once I was naked and tied up, she teased me to the edge of orgasm several times until I was properly warmed up. She then put a ball gag in my mouth so that I couldn’t talk. Then she dropped her bomb on me.

“John, I have gagged you because I have a lot of things to say to you and I don’t want you interrupting me. First, I know you are in love with me, and that you are completely sexually attracted to me. You are a very sweet and nice guy, and I appreciate how you are willing to do anything to please me. But something has happened in the last few months that you need to know about. My ex-boyfriend Scott was released from prison. I have been seeing him, and having sex with him for the last two months. I didn’t plan for

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:22 PM

Eroticon Virus

A teenage boy's elaborate hoax triggers mass hysteria with erotic consequences in a Japanese city...and maybe it isn't as much of a hoax as he thinks...

Story by; Lovelynice

Author's Note: This story is sexually explicit and is not suitable for minors. If you can’t accept the concepts in this story or are offended by them, or lack the mental maturity to be polite in your comments to me about this story…Well, stop reading immediately and go somewhere else. This is a work of fiction, and all characters are based on ones created in the author's mind. This story is not to be posted or duplicated without the author's expressed permission and this notice posted with it.

Eroticon Virus (Part 1)

“See you later”, Andy said to his friends as he stepped off the bus.

Hideki and Takayuki waved backed with cheerful mispronunciation, “She you”.

They still couldn't get the “S” sound quite right.

Andy smiled, and then started walking home as the bus pulled away from the kerb. His temporary home for another six months anyway. Andy was in Japan, and he was living with a Japanese family as an exchange student. It still amazed him that he'd gotten the chance to live in Japan for a year. It was even better that the Momoyuki family had two sexy daughters, Atsuko and Ritsuko.

Andy had jerked-off on fantasies about the two girls, especially the younger one, Atsuko, almost every night for months.

It was only two blocks to walk to the small house, but it turned into an enjoyable walk home that day as up ahead of him most of the way, there was a small group cute high-school girls. They all wore the common fashion of short skirts and big white socks. Andy kept wishing that the wind would blow so he'd get a glimpse of their panties. He wished that sexy Atsuko would wear really short skirts too, but she never did. She always wore the required exact regulation length black pleated skirt; the hem went down to just below her knees. All of her cute friends who sometimes visited were equally as conservative.

I wish that there was some way to convince them to dress sexier, Andy thought.

He thought that a lot. Especially about Atsuko Momoyuki.

Atsuko

Atsuko wiped back her shoulder-length black hair, and stepped out of the shower. She was nude of course, if anyone had been able to see her, they would have noticed that she had only a little hair "down there". Her pussy hairs were fine and soft. She had much less than most girls her age, as Atsuko had discovered in the communal showers at high-school. Her breasts were nicely pear shaped, perty tipped in the cool air, but Atsuko was disappointed in their size as she was only a small B-cup, and most of her friends were properly full B-cup or even C-cup.

She dried herself, and wrapped the fluffy white towel around herself before hurrying to her bedroom. Atsuko didn't own any bathrobes, as her mother didn't like to waste money on anything that might be considered frivolous expenses. Atsuko hurried because it was getting chilly already. It was November, late autumn in Chukyo City and it became cold quickly in the afternoons.

In her bedroom, the attractive teenage Japanese girl pulled on clean white cotton panties up her long legs, put on a pink brassiere, and began brushing her shoulder-length hair. In the mirror as she looked at herself, Atsuko realized that like everyone had often said, she really was very attractive. All her friends seemed to have boyfriends, yet for some reason Atsuko still didn’t have a boyfriend. She hadn’t even gone as far as dating any guys, because her parents were so strict & conservative.

She dressed again in a fresh clean white blouse and black pleated skirt, then put on a cream-coloured sweater. The sweater was oversized, as was the fashion at her school. Then Atsuko put on big white socks as well. She was dressed once again in school uniform. Atsuko had only come home to get changed because another girl had “accidentally” spilt orange-juice all over her skirt and blouse.

Then Atsuko went downstairs.

Mama was in the living room, watching the TV, catching-up on the latest news. She looked up as Atsuko came into the room.

"Good morning", she said, "You've already missed your father."

"Where's he gone this time?", Atsuko asked her, yawning and stretching again, still not quite awake.

Mama raised her eyebrows.

“Well, while you were at school, your father had to leave this afternoon for a trip to Tokyo", she replied in her kindly voice, "I don’t know if it’s related, but it’s all over the news that a North Korean ship was captured last night while it was on some kind of spying mission in Japanese waters. The Maritime Self-Defence Force captured it largely intact, but all the crew were dead. They'd killed themselves."

Atsuko nodded. She didn’t know exactly what her Papa did, but she knew he was very senior in the military administration. It seemed that every time that something big got into the news, Papa had to go visit some far away place in a hurry.

Checking her cellphone for text-messages as she sat down on the sofa, Atsuko read her received messages and learned that her best friend, "Kumiko" had called. Atsuko sent a text-message back and for a few minutes, they had a short chat by text about their activities of the night before. Atsuko learned that their friend, "Rie", was coming around to Kumiko's later that day, and Kumiko was inviting her to visit as well. They could have dinner together. Atsuko agreed.

"Mama?", Atsuko said, "Do you mind if I go out?"

Mama barely glanced away from the TV as she mumbled a reply, "Yeah fine A-chan, when will you be back?"

"Oh I'm only going to a friend's place", Atsuko told her, "Kumiko invited me over. I'll try to be home before six."

"That's okay...", she said without looking up this time, “I like Kumiko…She’s a nice girl.”

Atsuko ran back upstairs to her room to collect her favourite handbag, and grabbed a couple of small wrapped presents which she'd already prepared for Kumiko and Rie a few days before.

Rushing downstairs again, she called out, "I'm going out now...see you tonight...I'll give you a call when I get there."

At the front door, she put on her black shoes, opening the door and at the same time picking up an umbrella.

"Bye!", she called out, "I'll be back before seven at the latest!"

She heard a muffled goodbye from the living room, and then Atsuko was out and closing the door. Atsuko often found herself repeating everything she said to her Mama, worried that her mother wasn't paying much attention to what was going on. Mama was nearly always watching the TV.

As Atsuko walked to the front gate, she saw the foreign exchange student, Andrew, walking up the narrow street. She waved to him, but didn't wait around to speak with him. It wasn't that Atsuko didn't like him, but he was a gaijin, and spoke English, and always seemed too shy as well. Atsuko was shy too, but although she liked Andi-chan, there was no way that she'd get too friendly with him. He might get the wrong idea. So she just smiled, then hurried away to her friend's house. The cool air made her sneeze, and her throat tickled.

Atsuko hoped that it wasn't the first signs of a cold.

I seem to have 5 parts to this story

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:24 PM

Mary heard the front door bell ring from inside the kitchen. She walked to the living area and opened it to see a large black man and woman standing there. The man was huge and the woman was slightly larger than normal too.

“Can I help you?” She finally said.

“Yep,” the tall man finally said. “Tell you’re hubbie to come down and greet his old friends.”

Mary was surprised at his comments. She never knew John had black friends. At least he never mentioned any.

“Just a second,” she said finding her voice. “John.” She yelled out loud enough to wake the dead. “You have guests.”

She couldn’t help notice the bulge in the large man pants as she tried to avoid looking at it.

“Please take a seat in the living area,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll be down shortly. I have work to do in the kitchen.”

Mary turned around and started walking away. She heard a whistle from behind and knew the man must have been looking at her ass but ignored it and continued on. Not only black but rude too, she thought as she entered the kitchen door shutting it behind her.

She continued cleaning up the area without regards to what was going on inside till she heard a voice in pain and decided to peak in to see what was going on. As she cracked the door she was surprise.

John was totally naked in the center of the room and the huge black man had his small white dick and balls in his hand and was squeezing roughly while John was shifting from foot to foot to try to get from relief.

“Faggot boy, your wife don’t know you been paying me to shove my big cock in your white ass does she?” The man asked John squeezing harder as John squealed in pain.

“No master.” John yelled out. “Please don’t tell her master.”

“Undo my zipper and pulled my cock out and stroke it faggot.” The man yelled at him. “In a minute, I’m going to shove it up your faggot ass just like you like it.”

Mary watched in horror as John immediately reached down and unzipped the black man zipper and pulled out the biggest cock she had ever seen and started stroking it. It was twice as large as John and Mary cunt wetten at the sight. She couldn’t believe her husband was a faggot but the scene in the room was turning her on. She continued staring as the cock got bigger and bigger.

“Get on your knees faggot and suck a real cock,” the black man said giving John a harder squeeze on his balls making him jump up and cry out for mercy.

Mary watched John immediately get down on his knees and engulf the large cock in his mouth and started sucking the monster. The black man had a firm grip on the back of his head and was pushing it farther and farther in his mouth.

“That’s it faggot. Suck faster.” The man was yelling at him. “Get it hard so I can shove it up your sorry white ass.”

Mary could see John eyes budging out as the big cock was forcing it way freely in and out his mouth. The man finally slapped the top of his head.

“Get up and bend over faggot.” The man yelled at him. “Spread those white cheeks so I can put my black cock deep in your sorry ass.”

Mary saw John face was totally red in humiliation but immediately got up and turning around bent over and reached back spreading his ass. She had never guessed her husband was a submissive and faggot at that. She watched as the black man moved behind him and then John yell as his monster cock must have entered his ass. She was so turned on at the sight and reached down between her pant thighs and started rubbing her clit. This was totally wrong, but she couldn’t help it. It was the most excited thing she had ever witness and it was her own husband. The man was now really rocking his cock in and out John ass and slapping it at the same time. John face was in totally pain as he yelled at master to fuck his sorry ass with each slap.

“Me and the wife decided we are going to stay with you for a while faggot.” The man yelled at him from above. “I’m going to fuck your wife big white ass and your daughter and you are going to thank me. Hear that faggot. You wife and daughter pussies are going to be mine. I’m going to make them my slave hoes like you faggot.”

He slapped John ass several times in succession as John yelled out for him to fuck his wife and daughter.

Mary was stunned at his words but her cunt was dripping in excitement. She needed that black cock between her legs now as she quickly removed her clothes dropping them on the kitchen floor and started stroking her clit faster as she felt an orgasm coming.

“Yell for your big ass wife to come in here,” The black man yelled at John slapping his ass harder and harder as John pleaded for mercy. “I want to see her face as I come in your sorry white ass.”

John yelled as loud as he could for Mary as Mary stood in the doorway trying to decide what to do. Her cunt was on fire and she needed relief. She dropped down on all fours and crawled out to the living area. She could see the large black man glanced her way grinning as she crawled in like an obedient.

“Looks like the faggot wife wants a piece of my black cock.” The man laughed pulling his cock with one pop out of John ass as he reached back in pain trying to ease the soreness.

The man then slapped his ass hard.

“Dance your white ass for your wife faggot.” He yelled. “I want her to see what a faggot you are.”

John started swinging his ass from side to side as Mary crawled up to the large black man. She gasped at the size of the massive cock.

The black man looked down at her.

“Your faggot husband gave me all your property, your vehicles, and everything else just for the chance to have me fuck his white ass bitch.” He yelled. “I owned everything here including your white ass bitch. What do you say to that? What a piece of my big pecker here?

“Yes master,” Mary begged from the floor hardly believing what she was doing. Her husband had given her whole life away and here she was begging to suck the man cock that had taking it. “Fuck your bitch, master.

“Clean my cock first bitch,” the man yelled at her. “I’m going to shove it so far up your cunt and ass you’ll never want your faggot husband little pecker again.”

He reached out and slapped John ass again as Mary could see John asshole wide open.

“Isn’t that’s right faggot.” He yelled.

“Yes master.” John yelled in fear. “Fuck the bitch face, pussy and ass master. Make her your bitch.”

Mary opened her mouth as the black man stepped up and then his cock being shoved in. It was massive as she could hardly get half of it in her mouth. She felt him grabbed her hair in back and then pushing her face farther on it. She was gasping for air as is member drove deeper and deeper down her throat. Her cunt was creaming. She was disappointed when he finally pulled back withdrawing his cock as it dripped down her large white tits.

“Get on your back whore.” The black mister bellowed out. “Time for big daddy to give you the fuck of your life. Faggot boy come hold your wife legs up in the air.”

Mary could see John face avoiding her eyes as he walked over and lifted her legs up and back then the entrance of the black cock at her pussy opening.

“Fuck me master.” She screamed in desperate need for his member.

She felt his cock drive deep in her cunt as she tried to relax to adjust to the massive member. Her cunt had never been stuffed this full as she almost came as it plowed inside.

“Yesssssss. Fuck me. Fuck me. Master fuck me.” She yelled.

The man was pounding her cunt rapidly now as she quickly came enjoying the feeling and then felt him pulled out as she tried to tighten her cunt around the member to hold it in place.

“Turn over bitch.” He yelled at her. “Time to take a real man cock in your other hold. Help her faggot and hold her ass wide for master here.”

Mary tried to protest but her cunt was throbbing so bad that she complied. She knew it was going to hurt a lot but she was totally absorbed for his member she would do anything. Her ass was being spread in back as she felt his member at the rim of her hole.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh”. She screamed as the cock pushed through her tight asshole. The pain was unbearable as she clinched her fist in pain.

“Just half more to go bitch.” The man yelled from above and then you’ll be my bitch for good.

Mary screamed as the cock finally pushed all the way inside and slightly withdrew only to shove in again. She thought she would never be able to go to the bathroom again as she struggled to loosen her asshole to ease the pain. She felt his finger on her cunt stroking it as she relaxed and the pain subsided and she was starting to cream again. She had never been fucked there before but now she was starting to enjoy the feeling as she tried to rock back to get more of his cock inside.

“Damn bitch likes it as much as you faggot boy,” the man bellowed above.

“Rock that white ass whore. Milk my cock.” He yelled slapping Mary large ass globes in back as she pushed back and forth as fast as she could.

“I see you have the new bitch in heat.” A woman voice rang out from above.

Mary had forgotten all about the woman. She wasn’t in the room when she entered and she looked up red in the face with the cock still plunging in and out her asshole. The woman was wearing her sexiest night gown that had cost her a fortune and was very tight on her. She walked up in front of her.

“How you like my new gown?” The black woman asked from above. “I was trying on my new clothes when I ran across this in your drawer.

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:30 PM

I first met Gary when I was seventeen and he started hanging out on our block with my friend Amy. Over time I came to know him as a tough, sadistic little prick with a sick sense of humor. I made it clear to him that I didn’t like him and didn’t want to hang out with him only for him to push me and say, “If you don’t like me then go home, what are you doing here?” I replied, that I lived on the block and that the people there were my friends first. The next day I was hanging on the corner waiting for my friend Amy when Gary approached. He surprised me with a blow to my stomach that caused me to double over in pain. I had never been hit by a boy before and was very frightened. “So you don’t like me, do you bitch, then go home, your not wanted here,” he said in a commanding voice. I don’t know what it was, but I found myself very frightened and wanting to please him so he wouldn’t hurt me. Something told me that he was capable of doing just about anything. “No, I didn’t mean it I really like you I just wanted your attention,” I said. From that moment on, I minded myself around Gary and didn’t do anything to make him mad at me. Obviously he knew I was afraid of him as he started doing little things that I hated only to make me submit to him.

It started when he reached over and pinched one of my breasts in front of the whole gang. I was totally humiliated but was afraid to say anything. Another time he took a thin branch from a long weed stripped off the leaves (making into a switch) and started whizzing it at my bottom. Each time he made contact I would jump and tell him to stop, only to have him laugh at me and do it again. In fact the rest of the gang, seeing my submissiveness, started getting into the act and doing a lot of the same things for a laugh. Each time Gary humiliated me he would say he was only joking and that I was his best friend. After a while he started inviting himself over to my house. Once he even closed the light on my grandmother while she was going down the stairs and I (being too afraid to tell him what I really thought) laughed with him. It got to the point that my parents started thinking that I was the troublemaker and Gary was the victim of my sense of humor.

Anyway, I had my first sexual (and sexually submissive) experience when Gary found out that my parents were going away for a week. He invited himself for a sleepover and I was frightened that he may try to rape me, but was afraid to tell him no. The evening started out innocent enough, with Gary and me in two separate beds in my finished basement, snacking and watching TV. After a little while Gary said he was bored and went into the other room and I heard him messing around in my mother’s storage trunk. “Michelle, come here I want to show you something,” Gary said. I went inside to find the big storage trunk open with my mother’s (and aunt’s) old lingerie taken out dropped into a pile on the floor. Gary picked up an old strapless corset with boned vertical ribs, a pair of blue sheer stockings, panties, and a slip. “Put these on for me,” Gary said. “Why?” I responded fearfully. “Because I’m bored, I won’t touch you, I just want to jerk off while your wearing this stuff,” Gary countered. “But I don’t want you to see me naked,” I said. “You can change in the other room, I’ll be waiting inside on the bed,” Gary said. I knew it was getting really weird, but I wanted Gary to think I liked him and found myself always bowing to his will. I took the lingerie and went in the spare room saying, “Promise you won’t look” and proceeded to change into the lingerie that Gary had picked out. I started with the panties and corset (both of which were tight as my mom was a

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:31 PM

she looks through the glass doors of the bus station trying to get the courage to walk in. she takes a deep breath and slowly opens the door. As she walks over to the counter to ask about her ticket, she feels the eyes of everyone in the room watching her breasts wiggling under her sheer summer dress, certain that everyone knows she has nothing underneath. Before the man behind the counter can speak, a nice looking, well dressed man in a business suit comes up behind me and taps me on the shoulder and asks. “Are you waiting for a ticket?”
Looking at him curiously i answer ‘yes.’
‘From your Mistress,’ he continues, with a bit of a tone.
i blush and nod my head.
‘Answer me!’ he snaps.
‘Yes, Sir,’ I blurt out not even thinking.
‘Come with me,’ he responds. Nervous and chastising myself for being stupid, i lower my head and follow him back outside to a waiting car. i can feel the eyes of the entire station staring at me as we walk out, certain the whole place can tell I have nothing underneath my short summer dress as You told me to do. I notice my nipples are erect despite the heat of the day and I feel my face grow crimson. He places me in the back passenger side of the car and throws a blindfold into my lap. i quickly cover my eyes with it as i hear him slide into the drivers seat. i can feel my sex getting wetter from my nervousness and excitement. I’m glad You didn’t make me ride the bus.
Certain that everyone we pass can see me sitting here this way only adds to my arousal as we drive through what i’m sure are very busy streets as it is Friday evening. We drive for a while and i lay my head back uncertain what is going to happen but excited that it finally will.
i must have dozed off for a bit, uncertain how long we had been driving, as i feel the car slowing and making a gentle turn. i can hear the gravel under the tires but i’m not sure if it is a drive or just a dirt road. Not that it matters, it’s too late to back out now. i feel the car come to a stop and i hear him say, ‘We’re here.’
i quickly slide my dress over my head as You had instructed me to do upon arrival and fold it as neatly as i can, laying it on the seat and leave my shoes on the floor of the car. i’m certain my face is red as i hear the door open and feel the air on my naked form. He helps me out as I’m uncertain of the terrain i’m on. He guides me gently, telling me when to step up or just walk. The rocks hurt my feet some but the grass is soft and thick. The warm sidewalk is made of soft, large stones and the steps are of brick. He stops me as i feel a ‘welcome mat’ under my feet. i hear the door click and he pushes my shoulders gently forward as we walk through into what I’m guessing is Your home.
The tile is cool and smooth in sharp contrast to the walk outside as we enter. i can hear the door close behind me with a heavy thud and i jump

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:38 PM

self torture gone wrong
Some time ago I was browsing the internet for hot stories. I was curious about torture so I googles a while. I was surprised about the difference between men and women. I saw girls being tortures in very imaginative ways, but the men just got whipped. So I thought, I can make better pics.
I thought about it for a while and came up with the following idea. If I would take some very sharp needles, I could probably stick those in my cock without much pain, but it would make verry cool pictures.
So i collected some needled, cleaned them using alcohol and put my dick on the table. I cleaned my dick with alcohol too. That was very cool. Then I took a needle and pushed it into my cock very quickly. I didn’t feel much, so that was good, vut it wouldn;t stand upright. It sort of wobbled.
So I decided to push the second needle a little deeper. It hurt a bit more, but it still wobbled.
The third needle should be good, so I didn;t push it in, I RAMMED it in. And it HURT LIKE HELL!.
Okay, that was not the plan, so I decided to abort my little self torture project and to pull out the needles. But then it sterted bleeding real bad. The funny thing is, for some reason, the combination of seeing blood and feeling pain triggered some pfysical reaction. I shot off like I never did before! Cum and blood all over the table. It looked great!
After a while the bleeding stopped. My project had gone wrong and I don’t think I will ever do it again, but I’m glad I tried it anyway. I am just sorry I never took those pictures.

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:41 PM

1.

Ms. Tripper awoke to the sound of bustling in the hallway. Staff was getting the girls ready for their morning run. Due to severe acting out behavior the previous day, two of the girls would have to complete their five-mile run with no bras. This would be particularly uncomfortable for the two big-breasted girls, Kelly and Sandra. If only they had not refused to spread their bottoms and take a finger in their tight little holes. Not only did they lose points for private time, but they would also have to endure horrific humiliation as they ran, cupping their breasts, to keep them from painfully flopping up and down in front of the whole staff.

Ms. Tripper could not wait to start her day. The long night with Tess had left her feeling both peaceful and rejuvenated. When she glanced over at her little darling she saw her laying on her back staring at the ceiling. The frazzled girl looked like she was in a state of shock. Ms. Tripper rolled over on her right side and gave her a good mourning kiss on the cheek. Tess sat up and looked longingly out the window. Ms. Tripper then squeezed her sweetheart’s hand and told her not to worry for “they had many more exciting nights ahead of them”.

Soon there was a knock on the door. It was her favorite male handler, Ted. He entered Ms. Tripper’s room and ordered Tess to get out of bed. As Ted assisted Tess with getting dressed, Ms. Tripper winked at him saying that very soon he would be able to experience Tess’s wonderful delights the way she had. Ted smiled and stared at her bottom as he helped her pull up her panties. Tess’s cheeks turned bright red.

Ms. Tripper squeezed her bottom saying, “Isn’t she just darling?”

Ted escorted Tess back to her room. He told her to take off all her clothes and he led her to the shower. As Tess helplessly stood in the shower and Ted soaped up her vagina, she let out a loud sob. Ted shook his head thinking that Ms. Tripper must be feeling quite satisfied.

Ms. Tripper stood in front of the mirror naked and carefully studied her body. She had a beautiful hour glass shape with medium size breasts and a nice, firm bottom. She felt immense pride for how well preserved she was for a 43 year old woman.

Ms. Tripper began squeezing her nipples as she thought about the Hanson Center’s current “problem girl“, a stunning, tw

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:42 PM

Part 4
Up in the kitchen I made myself something to eat. Sitting down and eating my mind wandered back to Nicolas’s misdeeds. The rage once more built up in me when I thought of what he had done to those women. I want him to pay dearly for what he has done…]
.................................................. .....
They fell in love with him so easily. Once he had their trust he would ask them to marry him. Of course they had all said yes, what woman wouldn’t for the perfect guy? They would plan a big engagement party to announce their wedding to the world. She thinks she is going to her engagement party but Nicolas has other plans. As she enters the room that she thinks is her engagement party strong hands take her by surprise. They bind her in a hog-tie on a large oak table. She is crying and scared, and then she sees Nicolas and screams for him to save her. Nicolas comes to her with something in his hands. He forces a penis gag past her jaws and deep into her mouth. She hears him say, “This bitch make too much noise”. She watches through tear filled eyes as he turns and walks away. The man she loves, the man she trusted has betrayed her. She is crushed.
The rest of the nightmare is a blur. Her clothes are cut from her body. She is auctioned off to the highest bidders. Bids for first blowjob and popping the virgin’s cherry are taken with Nicolas as the auctioneer. Then other people paying for her ‘services’ use her the whole nightlong. After the last person has had their way with her, Nicolas releases the woman naked in the streets. He tells them he could never marry a whore like them. He says a virgin would never do the things I saw you do tonight. The women’s lives are shattered in one night. Most can’t live with themselves and take their own life by morning’s light. Those that don’t kill themselves retreat deep into their own minds and are sent to an asylum for the insane.
Nicolas preys upon weak women. He has become rich off of them.
.................................................. .....
…Now I have access to that money and I will use it toward training Nicolas and to support abused women. I need to find a way to save the women that lived.

Nicolas is feeling miserable. His body is racked with pain. His muscles are cramped from his very limited movement. His tongue feels like a dried out sponge and the pain from the clamp is driving him insane. How did he get like this? What are her intentions? He has never been this scared in his whole life. At this moment he feels broken like there is no fight left in him. This woman is crazy he must do what she wants. He does not want to suffer like this anymore. Is she ever coming back? She must come back. Nicolas can do nothing but wait for her return. Please return his mind screams. Nicolas drifts off to a safer place in his mind, not really sleep but he is not really conscious either. His mind snaps back to reality when he hears a noise outside the door. She is back he hopes and prays.
*****

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:44 PM

Nun stehe ich also vor der Tür meiner neuen Herrschaft und weiß nicht, was mich erwarten wird. Ich läute an. Von innen höre ich Schritte und das Geräusch von Stiefelabsätzen. Als die Tür aufgeht, steht meine Herrin vor mir und lächelt mich an – ein vorfreudiges und gleichzeitig bestimmendes Lächeln, das mich zittern lässt. Gleich nachdem ich eingetreten bin, knie ich mich nieder und küsse vorsichtig, etwas nervös, die Spitzen der traumhaften Lederstiefel. Das Kommando „leck sie“ befolge ich sofort, während sich von der Seite aus einem Nebenraum mein Meister nähert. Er stellt sich neben meine Herrin und begutachtet meine Stiefelleckkünste. „Eine fleißige Zunge hat der Sklave. Die wird auch von Nöten sein, denn meine Boots sind ziemlich dreckig. Hast du gehört, Sklave? Her mit dir zu deinem Gebieter!“ Natürlich folge ich aufs Wort und beginne die großen Motorrad-Boots zu saugen und zu lecken als wären sie die Lippen einer wunderschönen Frau. Immer wieder spüre ich den Dreck auf meiner Zunge. Mir bleibt aber nichts anderes übrig als ihn zu schlucken und zu hoffen, dass mir dabei nicht schlecht wird. Plötzlich stellt Herrin Viviane einen ihrer Stiefel fest in meinen Nacken und drückt mich so brutal nieder. Sie sagt zu meinem Meister: „Lass uns ins Wohnzimmer gehen. Der soll unsere Schuhsohlen immerhin auch sauber lecken.“ – „Gute Idee! Im Profil bleibt eh immer soviel grausliches Zeug hängen. Haha!“ Gesagt, getan. Eine Minute später und nachdem ich meiner Herrschaft Wein eingeschenkt habe, liege ich schon vor ihrem Sofa am Boden und lecke mit verzogenem Gesicht abwechselnd die vier Schuhsohlen bis sie glänzen. Das genießen Meister und Herrin so, dass sie mich diese Arbeit eine halbe Stunde lang machen lassen. Dabei trinken sie genüsslich ihren Wein und beachten mich mit keinem Blick oder Wort. Ich bin nur ein Ding, das die Befehle befolgt.
Plötzlich steht mein Meister auf und sagt; „Da fehlt doch was, oder, Sklave? Zieh dich sofort bis auf die Boxershorts aus und knie dich mit dem Gesicht zur Wand hin.“ Während er in ein anderes Zimmer geht, kommt meine Herrin näher und haucht mir sanft ins Ohr: „Sebastian, bist du bereit ohne Rückkehr unser Sklave zu werden?“ – „Ja, Herrin Viviane“ flüstere ich nur. Mehr bringe ich nicht hervor. Da kommt auch schon mein Meister zurück. Ich sehe nichts, darum bin ich etwas verunsichert. Doch plötzlich merke ich, was passiert. Er legt mir ein schweres, dickes Halsband um und zieht es richtig fest zu. Dann streicht er mir über den Kopf und sagt: „Du bist ohnehin schon unser Eigentum. Es gibt kein Zurück! Du gehörst Viviane und mir. Unser Wille ist alles was dich ab jetzt in deinem jämmerlichen Leben interessieren wird! Merke dir, dass, alles was wir dir sagen, Gesetz und Schicksal für dich ist. Du wirst in den kommenden Monaten unser Allzweck-Sklave werden, und du wirst dich gut dabei fühlen.“ – „Ja, mein Gebieter! Danke Herr!“ – Viviane fügt dann noch hinzu: „ Und mit Kontakten zu anderen ist es jetzt aus! Du wirst auch keine Freundin haben. Es gibt nur uns für dich. Du lebst für deine Herrschaft. Ist das klar, Sklave?“ Dabei drückt sie mich mit dem Gesicht zu Boden und befestigt die Leine am Halsband. Danach zieht sie mich mit einem Ruck zum Sofa zurück. Plötzlich öffnet mein Meister seine Lederhose und nimmt ein großes Bierglas in die Hand. Er sagt: „So, Sklave. Verträge sind Dinge für Interneterotiker. Jetzt wirst du irreversibel als unser Sklave getauft. Und du wirst jetzt das erste Mal den Schwanz deines Herren und die Muschi deiner Gebieterin zu sehen bekommen. Die werden ab jetzt zum Mittelpunkt in deinem Sexualleben werden.“ Jetzt holt er seinen Schwanz heraus und hält ihn mir 10cm vors Gesicht. „Schau! Das ist ein Schwanz! So was hast du nicht. Haha!“ Viviane fügt lachend hinzu: „Und der wird oft in deinem Sklavenmaul stecken!“ Darauf pinkelt mein Meister in das Bierglas, direkt vor meinen Augen, so dass ich schon den intensiven Geruch nach Pisse wahrnehmen kann. Bei der Hälfte bricht er ab und gibt das Glas an meine Herrin weiter, die ihren Latexrock nach oben schiebt und das Glas weiter befüllt. Durch die Mischung schäumt die Pisse auf und lässt alles wie ein frisch gezapftes Bier aussehen. Viviane lächelt und sagt: „Na mein Sklave, wirst du jetzt nervös? Wenn du das austrinkst, gehört uns auch deine Seele. Da nennt sich Sklaventaufe. Und die ist unumkehrbar.“ – Mein Meister spricht gleich weiter: „Und du hast keine Wahl. Du wirst das alles trinken und dich dafür bedanken. Ob du willst oder nicht, du wirst gehorchen!“ Dass sagt

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:44 PM

Hotel Bonaventure

“Well, isn’t this a coincidence?” The question came out of the blue for Steven Kirkpatrick, a young businessman with just a little more arrogance than humility, with an inherent sense of entitlement as he navigated his way through the world. He was checking in to his hotel room rather uneventfully as he’d done so many times before. He was caught off-guard as he felt the presence of two people invade his personal space on both sides. He glanced nervously around as he saw the person who posed the question standing dangerously close on his left side and her companion on his right. It was Theresa and her boyfriend Carl, a couple he’d met in his hometown of Philly in an attempt to explore some of his “darker” sexual fantasies. Darker meaning he had an odd obsession with Black sexuality, more specifically he had fantasies of submitting to a sexy Black woman and her lover and being “forced” to do whatever they had in mind. They were a couple that fit that description perfectly with confidence and sensuality oozing from every pore in their bodies and more than just a little experience in manipulating and dominating submissive whiteboys. What they were doing in Montreal, in the Hotel Bonaventure for that matter, was beyond him. He glanced around nervously, afraid that people could read his mind, that they would know his dirty little secrets.

“Hey,” he said nervously, “what are you guys doing here?” His discomfort was more than apparent and his insincerity was transparent.

Carl put his arm around Steven and patted him on the back. “You told us what a hot city Montreal was and we decided to come check it out for ourselves. Who would have thought we would end up staying in the same hotel together? It really is a small world, isn’t it?”

Feeling a little more relaxed; Steven smiled and realized that no one could read his mind, that his secrets were safe. The fact that it wasn’t really a coincidence that Theresa and Carl were there, the fact that they were there to torment and push his buttons was completely lost on him. Momentarily, Steven got a quick thrill thinking about how the three of them had met, of how they had toyed with him and left him wanting more. It was a rather innocuous meeting, one in which they’d met for coffee to size each other up. He’d made promises of how he would do whatever they said, of how he was willing to become some deliciously depraved slut that would endure all sorts of sexual torments in order to fulfill his interracial fetish. For Theresa and Carl however, domination wasn’t just a pastime or a fetish, it was a way of life and they proved to be more powerful adversaries than Steven had ever imagined. They essentially told him upon meeting him that he did not meet their criteria for a submissive and they weren’t interested in him. Both pissed off and aroused by their comment, Steven went home and masturbated thinking of all sorts of situations in which he would have been made to do things that would make anyone in polite society cringe.

“Do be a dear and get our bags and bring them up to our room, won’t you Steven? We’re in room number 1705.” The casual air with which Theresa issued her command made Steven feel about 2 inches tall but there was something thrilling about the fact that she was talking to him like a servant. He felt movement in his pants and the beginning of an erection as the desk clerk offered to have the bellman bring the bags up to their room. Carl declined the offer and insisted that Steven would be more than happy to bring their bags up to their room personally. They walked off, hand in hand, leaving Steven there, dazed and confused, and outraged that they would dare to be so arrogant.

Steven hesitated, as he watched the two of them walk away, hand in hand, tempted to yell out, “Take your own fucking bags,” but he was paralyzed by the thought of bringing more attention to

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:46 PM

Mike was telling his gang pals about his latest scheme. "I got this bro who

works for a moving company & for a few bucks he lets me in on easy rip off jobs.

There is this yuppie white couple who he moved into their new digs & he said

they got thousands of dollars worth of good shit. I scoped out the place for a

while. Hubby goes to work every morning like a good boy & she takes her little

kid for a walk a liitle bit later. We wait for her to leave, bust in the back way & give her a taste of black dick when she gets home." The other men instantly agreed at this chance for easy pickings & some white poon.

Jenny Newton stood on the front step of her new house giving a kiss to her husband Scott before sending him off to work. He gave her ass a playful slap & left. She went back inside unaware that she was being watched by Mike & a few of his gang pals from a moving van a few houses down. "See? Just like I said. Stupid white boy goes away & we have all day." "Damn she's a fine little piece of ass. Gonna make her bleed!" one of the other men said & the rest laughed & high-fived each other. About twenty minutes later Jenny came out with her year old son in his stroller & went off down the street. Mike nonchalantly strolled down toward the house & went up the driveway to the back yard. He looked around & saw no one, so he tried the porch door & it opened. "Dumb bastards. This is too easy", he thought to himself. Concealed in the enclosed porch he took his time & jimmied the door open. Mike made a quick check of the house to be sure it was empty & it was. He went to the window & peeked through the curtains & let his pals see he was in & then hid in the hall closet to await Jen's return.

About fifteen minutes later Mike heard a key in the front lock. Opening the closet door a crack he watched Jenny enter & push the stroller right to where he was. She took off her jacket & reached for the door handle. Mike shoved the door open & before a startled Jen could scream his big black hand was over her mouth. "Nice baby. You want it to live?" he asked her. A terrified Jenny wildly shook her head yes. "I'm gonna move my hand & you don't scream. Right?" Her eyes got very wide & she shook her head again. He removed his hand from her face & she stared up at this huge black man who stood more than a foot above her petite 5'4" frame. "Who are you? What do you want? I have some money in my purse. Please don't hurt us" Jen pleaded. Mike grabbed her arm & went to the window & signaled his pals. The van started up & it was driven to the end of the driveway. A few seconds later, Mike & Jen were joined by three more black men. They spread out through the house to start collecting valuables. Mike, relaxed at the ease of the takeover, held Jennifer at arms length & looked her over. She trembled visibly & looked down at the floor. He ran his hand through her curly brown hair & squeezed her 34b tits through her sweatshirt. She recoiled at that & tried to slap him but he grabbed her wrist & roughly twisted her arm behind her back & pushed her face first into the sofa. "You want to play rough, then we'll play rough bitch!" Mike told her. Pushing her face into the cushions, he grabbed at her sweatpants & wrestled them off her butt & down till they bunched up at her knees as she kneeled on the floor. He smacked her in the back of the head & ordered her not to move. Jen heard his zipper & the rustling of his pants & dreaded what was coming. With one hard pull her panties were torn off & tossed aside. He rubbed his semi-hard dick between her pussy lips & felt up her ass. When his prick was hard he pulled her sweatpants off one leg & kneeled behind her spreading her legs wide. Spitting on his dick & rubbing it around he told her "Get ready for ten inches of black cock bitch. And you better not scream or I kill your brat. Got it?" Jen weakly said yes & buried her head as deep into the cushion as possible. Mike spread her pussy lips & pushed just the tip of his dick into her. Draping his body over hers he roughly rammed halfway into her dry cunt, making her jerk up & groan in pain. Mike pulled out & rammed in again & again till he was totally inside her. He leaned close to her ear & said "You're pretty goddamn tight after having a kid. You're gonna be real loose after today." Jen felt his hot breath on her face & was disgusted by its smell & his awful body odor. He began to slowly fuck her. After a minute or two his tempo increased & he slammed into her pussy with each thrust causing her whole body to shake. Her knees were getting sore & Jen wished that her attacker would hurry & finish with her. "Here it comes baby. Here it comes!" Mike shouted as he furiously banged into her. Jen's head was snapped back as he grabbed her hair with both hands to pull her against his body. She felt him comes in spurts into her pussy. Mike was panting heavily as he felt his dick soften & slip from her slimy hole. He wiped some of his cum from her pussy & rubbed it on her lips. "How's that taste?" he said with a laugh. He stood up & wiped his dick clean with her panties. Poor Jenny just lay there bent over the couch as he left her. Her legs obscenely spread & cum dripping from her snatch & running down her thighs. She sobbed softly. Mike flopped into a recliner, his pants still around his ankles. "You got a cute little ass girl. We'll be taking care of that too." "Hey guys! Come down & get some pussy!" he yelled upstairs to his cronies.

Leon, Willy & Trey hustled downstairs with a fur, jewelry, tv & vcr & video camera and a few other items. "Damn Mikey! You didn't kill the bitch with your dick now did ya?" Trey asked with a huge smile. The men put the loot by the back door. Jen crawled across the floor unsteadily to check on the baby. When she was assured he was fine she looked up & saw three grinning black men staring down at her. "Please, no more. Take our stuff & go. Please! My husband will be home soon" she lied. "What do we do to a lying cunt Willy?" Trey said. "We fuck her good" came the reply. They reached down & easily picked her off the floor. "Hey Mike. You missed this rock on her finger" Trey said as he held out Jen's hand. "Take it off bitch or I'll cut it off" he ordered. She slipped off her wedding ring & gave it up. "This must be three grand right here. You the man, Mikey. This is gonna be a great fucking day" Trey said. Willy said "I wanna fuck her in her own bed. Bitches hate that". "You take her on up & I'll look around down here for more shit" Mike told them. Leon grabbed Jen's sweatshirt & lifted it off her. The bra was next & he grabbed her tits in his big hands & bit down on one of her nipples causing her to wince in pain. "Upstairs bitch. Lead the way" she was told. "What about my baby? I won't leave him!" she yelled. Leon drew his hand back & slapped her with all his might, snapping her head around & causing her to fall down onto the stairs. Jen rubbed her stinging cheek & began to cry loudly. "Get your fucking ass upstairs right now or I'll kill that little bastard right in front of you!" Willy screamed in her face. Jenny picked herself up & slowly started up the stairs. She heard them making lewd remarks about her body & what they were going to do to her. She led them to her bedroom & the men began to undress.

Jenny shook in fear & shame, as she stood in her bedroom, sore & tired, waiting to be gang raped. Trey put his hands on her shoulders & pushed her to her knees. "Make it hard babe" she was told as he pushed her face into his limp prick. She grabbed it with her hands & took it into her mouth. She opened as wide as possible & took in as much of his thick member as she could. Saliva dripped onto her tits as Jen began to slurp on his stiffening dick. Leon stroked himself hard as he watched his friend get blown. He pulled her up from her knees & had her bend at the waist & continue to suck Trey. Leon spit on his fingers & roughly rubbed Jen's pussy & probed her with his middle finger. Jen squealed when he pinched her clit. Trey grabbed the back of her head & started to fuck her face with quick strokes.

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:47 PM

Authors Note: The following is just a piece of entertaining (Hopefully) fiction, nothing more. The author condemns real life slavery and rape and hopes that those willingly participating and profiting from such crimes are brought to justice: yet this piece differs in that it is fantasy, nothing more.

****

To me, the female body was a thing of beauty: a perfectly sculptured master piece there for admiration and the visual delight of others. Trim, well shaped and with pleasing features surpassing that of the greatest works of art in history, a good woman’s body to me was worth a pot of gold, literally. Perhaps it was my fascination and veneration of female beauty, or the way I could make them do whatever I wanted when I had them within my grasp, but for as long as I could remember, I have always enjoyed the thought of making my living with artwork. Female artwork that is.

While the fantasies had started at a much younger age, I entered into my trafficking business roughly when I was out of school, around the age of 18. At first, I started off as a scout: prying through the various nightclubs of my city on the look out for pretty, seemingly alone girls. As the years passed however, I was given more and more responsibilities, eventually coming to the top of my profitable…corporation that trafficked artwork to those depraved and wealthy enough to become one of my clients. At this point, women for me had become little more than walking wads of cash. Although indeed there were women amongst my organization that did the same to men, I found my ability to connect with them on a human level diminishing with the growing numbers of women I sold into slavery, as even female ‘work mates’ took on the appearance of potential slaves, at least in my mind.

All of this however, is history. I used to think of women as a source of income for myself and fellow males, now I sternly believe the opposite, after all don’t they say that behind every great man is an even greater woman? Like many, many other stories of present and past, it started with a girl. Still, the most gorgeous creature I have ever laid eyes upon.

A year and a half ago, almost to the day, I had been amongst one of the privileged few invited to attend the opening of a new art gallery dedicated to the establishment of human rights (How ironic) in war torn countries. I was a friend of the owner after some of my girl’s sold her a pair of high school football quarter backs she now keeps chained up in her basement, and she had wished to thank me in a way by inviting both I and the relevant associates to a congregation that offered me the opportunity to mingle with the cities High Society, and possibly more customers. It was when I was discussing a piece of art drawn by some wanna-be artist college girl that I laid eyes upon ‘Her’. Although my glance just passed her briefly when I was casually scanning the room, my roaming vision was quickly drawn back to her when my brain registered the possible angel fallen from heaven. Her height was nice for a woman, 5’10 with firm yet feminine shoulders. The hair that crowned her head seemed to me to be made from black silk, falling down to the top of her lower back like a straight ebony waterfall: such a fine mane was complimented by beautiful olive hued skin, the likes of which seemed utterly flawless. Her face was no different, a set of full, dark colored lips set amongst her elegant features: lips that, to me at least, seemed designed for the sole purpose of pleasuring a man’s most intimate places. Even her eyes caught my

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:49 PM

Jessica’s Surprise
By Lia

It was a cold autumn evening, the kind that left a chill in your bones and smelled like dead leaves. The doorbell rang and Master Richard ordered me to the back door to answer it. Jessica arrived dressed in tight jeans, high heeled boots and a sweater that left little to the imagination. As usual, she flaunted her feminine attributes. I was also dressed in tight jeans with a coffee colored crocheted sweater over a matching tight tank top. My feet were bare. I greeted her warmly with a hug. I haven’t seen her since I stopped working with her about 6 months ago. She handed me a plate of cookies and I thanked her for bringing desert.

Jessica hadn’t been to the house before, and commented on what a great place it is. I had everything set up all cozy with warm lighting, a fire glowing in the fireplace and the candlelit table set for the dinner I was preparing. The house smelled great from the chicken and the rosemary potatoes roasting in the oven. Master Richard greeted Jessica with a hug as well. It was an awkward moment, considering that Jessica was the last girl that Master Richard was involved with prior to me. Their relationship was brief and physical but never transpired into much else. Until me, Jessica was the wildest woman he had ever been with. Her libido is a little out of control, and her interests are pretty wild – or at least he considered them so back then. He and I started seeing each other a few months after they had split up.

Master Richard and I had spoken often about Jessica over the course of our relationship. We found that we both had an interest in her sexually, and were curious on how she would react if she found out what our lifestyle was like. Although I am no longer at the company, Master and Jessica still work together, and over the course of the past few months they have flirted with the idea of her coming for dinner. She and I have emailed about it as well. She has always seemed very receptive to the idea, and once she had implied to Master that she was attracted to me. Never had anything been said about her joining us for any fun and games, but the veiled opportunity had always been there. So this was the night that it all came down.

I offered Jessica a martini, and she eagerly accepted. She has always been a big partier. I too like my martinis, just not quite as frequently. Master on the other hand is a very minimal drinker, and usually only has a beer or maybe two as he did that night. We sat down on the couch and talked for a while as dinner finished cooking. We spoke of work and what I have been doing since I left, of our kids, and the wedding. Everything was very nice and polite – which was vastly different than how the night would turn out.

I served dinner to the two of them, and then sat down myself to eat. We had opened a bottle of wine and Jessica and I were indulging. As we began to feel a little more at ease (a.k.a. drunk) the talk turned a little racier. During a brief lull in the conversation, Master turned to me and said “Lia, I think you should tell Jessica about our relationship.” I looked at him with pleading eyes as I was supremely embarrassed at the idea of this, and he coaxed me on with a “Go ahead.” Jessica was looking confused and curious. So I turned to her, and proceeded to bring her down the path we have been on for the past 2 ½ years. I explained to her that Master and I have both become very involved in BDSM together. I told her our story, how we started with light bondage and some spanking, and have moved into much more stringent training such as humiliation, flogging, cropping, caning, electro and breast and nipple torture. I told her how we scene regularly – in our own dungeon, as well as with others and at parties. How we have had playmates, and that I have begun to exploit my bisexuality. I am his submissive, and he is my Master. I take great satisfaction in knowing that I please him however he chooses to be pleased, and knowing that I am well on my way to becoming his slave, though I haven’t earned that title yet.

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:51 PM

Chapter One

In high school Amy was the type of girl that made a boy’s heart beat loud enough for the whole class to hear. She knew it too. She had a way of smiling that made you smile back and turn red in the face. Boys would ask her out in front of their own girls without thinking, rambling about ‘would you like to go the movies or dinner or something’

She was petite; about 110 pounds which made her perky little C- cup breasts look incredible. You could almost put your hands around her waistline, yet she had nicely curved hips and a tantalizing ass. Her curly strawberry blonde hair smelled sweet as perfume everyday; a delicate scent that lingered in the hallways after she walked passed. She wore tight clothes and it was not unusual for her to be sent home for revealing too much.

I fooled around with other girls plenty; however Amy was my only real interest. I never pursued her directly - my varsity letter in wrestling was not enough to put me in her league. The desire was inescapable. It could be ignored but never suppressed. As our teachers rambled on about God knows what, I was plotting to take her freedom away. I knew that on my 18th birthday I would finally get the inheritance that would enable me to fulfill my ultimate fantasy.

As soon as we graduated I was already buying thousands of acres of untouched land outside of town. It took me a couple years to have a suitable mansion custom built that was in essence a cross between a modern castle and a military bunker. Everyone has an idea about what their dream home would be - some dream darker than others. It was surrounded by miles of thick woods and sealed behind a high perimeter wall complete with a keypad operated gate. My new home was imposing structure. The large two-story stonewalled manor sat atop an underground prison which was soon to contain my special young lady.

I was 21 years old when I first crossed the point of no return. The planning and preparation of years past represented a mere few of the millions of thoughts racing through my head as I looked down on my victim. Abducting Amy was shockingly easy. I parked at a grocery store about a mile from where she lived and strolled over to her place in broad daylight. I knew she would be at college until the late afternoon. I casually kicked-in the wooden privacy fence that enclosed her backyard and threw a baseball threw the sliding glass door. I knew the alarm would only detect if the door was opened - not if the glass broke. My first Steps into her house were a exhilarating. I had been tempted to snoop around, but stuck to the plan. I crawled into her attic and waited. When she got home she assumed the baseball had done the damage. I don't know if she even checked the house for intruders. In any case I waited with infinite patience.

In the middle of night I crept down into the house. Amy was sleeping like a baby when I drugged her and never even woke up as put her in the back seat of her own car and drove away. Now and then I checked her breathing and her pulse. In my mind she was my responsibility as well as my prisoner.

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:52 PM

LING
©2005 by C. A. Smith

Chapter 1

It made no sense.
It was absolutely unlike her.
No phone call. No advance warning. Just a totally unhelpful one-paragraph e-mail. Then, poof! Gone. Right off the face of the earth.
“Just a heads up,” she had written. “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but I joined a travel group a while back that specializes in locating low fare trips to exotic places on a standby basis, and an opportunity has come along for a trip to Taiwan and China that was too good to pass up. But I had to move fast to take advantage of it, so I’ve taken an indefinite leave of absence from work and Lyle (sigh!) to make the trip. While I’m over there I’ll see if I can track down some of our family. The route and arrangements are rather convoluted so it may put me out of touch with everyone for a while. But not to worry! Lyle doesn’t like being left behind, of course, but he can’t go (as usual) because of all those pregnant ladies in need of his constant attention, etc. etc. Well, I figure by the time I get back he should be in a pretty appreciative mood and eager to show how much he missed me, if you catch my drift :-). Tell Mom and Dad I’ll bring back lots of pictures. Hugs! Your weird but excited sister, Ming.”
No, she hadn’t mentioned it before, and weird was the word, all right! But then, both of us fit that mold. We grew up playing fantasy games that most other kids thought way too weird. One of us, usually Ming who was two years older than me, would be a wicked queen or a witch or a conquering Amazon, with me as her vanquished victim. Accordingly, I spent much of those games tied up and gagged or lashed to a piece of furniture while my sister pretended to whip, torture and slay me in various imaginative ways. Looking back, I can now say that those games gave me my first prepubescent taste of erotic stimulation, foreshadowing the headier jolts I would come to cherish after Ming showed me what to do with that little button in my girl slit. The torture turned real in later years, if only in my mind, as I wallowed in her wake through high school and college. My intellectual abilities never measured up to Ming’s, and my parents never understood that rubbing my nose in Ming’s brilliant accomplishments and pushing me to be “more like her” would not make me smarter. In fact, it was not only useless but hurtful. Far from inspiring me to achieve higher grades, it merely frustrated me and made me resentful of nature’s unfair distribution of smarts. Had I Ming and I loved each other less, I might have resented her, as well. But she was the perfect antidote to these painful comparisons: never taking the opportunity to gloat; always assuring me in the secrecy of our room that Mom and Dad meant well but were old-world clueless and I was doing just fine. That was Ming.

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:53 PM

Intro: for those that never touched LKH Mary Gentry series:

This is enchanted faery land. Sithen is the Mound in which the faery land exists. It is home for it, containing countless chambers, gardens, it is world in its self, but it is living “being”. It changes at its own will.

Mistral is God of winds and storm. He is 6”4’, muscled, with slightly off white coloured skin, grey knee long hair and eyes. He becomes the captain of Queens guard after Doyle was discharged.

Doyle was Queens Darkness. He is shape shifter. he can change into a black dog, black stallion and some kind of black bird of pray. He is 6’2’, compact, black skin and blue-black shiny ankle length hair.

================================================== ====================

It is unusual, quiet, eerie dark, but I don’t know if it is calm before the storm or the one just after the battle. Sithen decided it is time for rest so it made its chambers dark, bathing the gardens in cold blue moonlight.

It was only hours since we worked magic, danced to rhythm of our desires, but I lay awake, motionless in the big, black silk covered bed, and listen to his breathing. He sleeps like a King, spread eagle in peaceful, deep, dreamless rest.

Sliding carefully to the floor, I make my way to the chair, folding legs underneath me, pulling the fur close to my body, not for warmth but for comfort, I’m watching him sleep. I love to watch him sleep; still not believing it is him, Mistral, Lord of Storm and Winds. My Lord! I watch moonlight playing shadows on taut muscles, long grey hair spilled like liquid silver around him.

The air is filled with heavy scent of sage. Closing my eyes, inhaling deeply, remembering evening, his need, our passion. Deep in my body starts ripple, memory alive. Heat rising, urge to feel him, to taste him, to convince myself: he is mine!

Quietly, I move like a shadow, to the head of the bed. Leather straps lay discarded on the floor, just what I need! With feather touch, nothing more than butterfly kiss, I tie the leather to his wrist and to the bedpost. First one, than the other hand. I smile and move to his feet, which I secure to the bottom bedposts. This time I will have him on my terms!

I lie between his legs and inhale his warm, male aroma. With closed eyes I touch my cheek to his leg, lightly, just feeling soft caress of his heat. Lying on my stomach with my arms imprisoned under my breast, I cannot resist; my tongue darts and licks, my taste buds feasting on his sweet skin.

He moves, still asleep, and pulls on his bonds. The sleep clears his led coloured eyes quick and he attempts to get up, reach for his sword. I lay motionless between his legs ready to move fast if my bonds are not strong enough to hold him. But I did good job and slowly he quiets down to assess

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:54 PM

His cock shone in the moonlight that filtered through the shuttered blinds. Her eyes were as fixed on his muscular torso as his were on her naked body as he crossed the room. She sighed with anticipation as he knelt forwards on the bed and began kissing her legs. He worked slowly upwards and bypassed her hirsute triangle of delights as he worshipped her stomach, her breasts and finally her neck with his soft lips. His hands brushed backwards and forwards across her warm skin as he gazed into her eyes and finally moved downward to her throbbing sex.

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* * *

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Elena woke up and slammed her palm on the snooze button atop the alarm clock. As she rolled back over she felt a familiar stickiness between the top of her thighs. Coping with a period each month was annoying enough, but the feelings Elena encountered at the other end of her cycle were just as distracting and - at times - nearly as messy. She climbed out of bed, trying not to disturb John who was still asleep, and headed to the bathroom.

She started the shower running and then pulled off her pajamas ready to step in. She paused in front of the full length mirror to look at her body. Her face was fairly pretty, although her lips were slightly too full. Her long black curls cascaded down to her shoulders, framing her slightly squarish face. Her breasts were mismatching sizes, one noticeably bigger than the other. They both culminated in identical small dark nipples adorning her olive skin. Her stomach was slightly rounded, neither flat nor fat. Her dense jet black bush made her groin stand out from the rest of her body, distracting attention from her curvaceous legs. Her butt, hidden from view of the mirror, was like most of her body; curvy in a way that was sexy but not overweight.

Elena bent forward and ran her hands along her shins. Her legs did not yet need shaving again. She had always seemed cursed with an abundance of hair that she did not want, and one of the things she hated most about her body was having to shave or wax areas that other girls didn't need to bother with. At least her husband John didn't mind her underarms being kept in her native European style.

When she had finished in the shower, Elena went to fetch her maid's uniform from the closet. It was a light blue, rather unflattering uniform comprised of a thick blouse/jacket and a pleated skirt that went just below the knee. The colour did not suit Elena at all. She grabbed it and her underwear, but then thought better of it. She slipped on only the uniform, and went over to the bed where John was stirring.

"I think I'm going to go without underwear today," she whispered in his ear, trying to inject as much sex appeal into her Slavic accent as she could. She opened a button at the top of her clothes so that he might be able to see her breasts dangling in front of him.

"You'll get cold," John said parentally, not bothering to look at her chest.

"I'll be ok," Elena said curtly as she turned and strode off, redoing the button.

Rabbit1

12-15-2005, 07:55 PM

Again please do not reply to these posts if one of the stories is yours please PM me or Email me with the story number and I will tell you what I need to publish it

I will post more tomorrow

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:44 PM

Tying, & Tickling a Campus Reporter.

Author’s Notes: This is fantasy, the name has been changed, and this is a role play via instant messenger. M/f

Part 1 – The Deal.

Just after I had showered & changed, someone knocked on my door one Saturday morning. I open the door, & standing in the hall is an attractive woman about my age. She introduced herself as one of the girls working for the campus newspaper. “I have practiced the art of being a queen of escape and I have heard you are a bondage master so I want to challenge you.” It isn’t every day an attractive woman comes to you door, & it's even rarer for her to challenge you to tie her up. So I reply, “Well now, come on in. This challenge sounds interesting.”

Mary: …but if I manage to get free I will expose you as a rubbish bondage master in the newspaper!!
Me: What's in it for me?
Me: I mean, shouldn't I get a reward if you can't get out?
Mary: Don’t be so confident, I will get out. And if I don't I will write an article on how good a bondage master you are, and it will probably attract more girls to come and challenge you.
Me: That still doesn’t seem enough. Let’s up the stakes a bit. If you can get out, I will pay you $100 in the form of this green paper I am pulling from my wallet. If you can’t get out, I will have a surprise for you.
Mary: What’s the surprise?
Me: Oh, it’s something that will take your breath away. What do you say, o overconfident one?
Mary: I accept! You’re not keeping me restrained! I am related to the great Henry Houdini!
Me: Okay then. What are the rules, Miss Houdini?
Mary: The rules are you can use as much rope as you want, but you can't tie me to something (not tied down or anything)
Me: I can only tie you to yourself, right?
Mary: Yes! So, do you dare?
Me: What about gagging you? After all, we wouldn't want to be interrupted outsiders.
Mary: Well, that's not really part of the challenge, but if you think it is necessary.....
Me: Sure it’s part of the challenge. If you called out & someone heard you, that person could help you get out. However, I wouldn't do it until I'm done. You’d be able to talk to me & tease me until I’m done. Oh yeah, is there a time limit for your escape?
Mary: lol It will not take me long
Me: Okay then, if you're so confident, we'll set it on 30 minutes, especially since I know your story is due in 2 hours.
Mary: Fine, we start when you want.
Me: All righty. I accept this challenge.
Mary: Cool, you want to do it in your dorm?
Me: No, too many workers, friends, & random people come here
Me: I know of a place. We'll go downstairs. Just let me get my book bag.
Mary: Ok, I will follow you.

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:45 PM

Published see it Here--- http://www.bdsmlibrary.com/stories/story.php?storyid=3991

Marie’s Big Mistake: Case No. 11-198-9

By Will [email]

Marie sat in the back seat of the Dismay city police car, the tears were running down her face as she stared out into the dark. The blue and red lights on the roof of the car sliced through the blackness of the night and flashed ominously on her parent’s house.
Outside the car her mom and dad were pleading with the officers not to take her, but Marie had made a big mistake. Her heart was beating like mad and her mind was a blur, so many thoughts were racing through her head, she’d made a bad mistake and now all she wished was she could take it back, but it was too late. Tonight was supposed to be the night she had her cherry popped. It had been planned for months, but now it was all screwed up, and she knew it was her fault. Why did she threaten the teacher? Why did she accuse him of taking advantage of her? It was all a lie and she’d got caught. She’d done it out of desperation, but it had all turned out so bad, she knew that now, but it was too late.
Marie could feel the aching in the pit of her stomach, she wondered where Jack was, she felt the tingle in her sex despite the situation. Marie closed her eyes and thought about what should have happened tonight, what should be happening right now, she should be at the motel, pinned to the mattress and getting brutally fucked. She’d dreamt about so much, Jack’s big cock pounding into her, hurting her as he ripped away her virginity...

Jack stood in the distance watching Marie’s parents beg and plead with the cops. There was a mixture of anger and sadness in his heart, he didn’t know why Marie was in the police car, but he knew it couldn’t be good. He’d been looking forward to meeting up with her for so long. They’d met online and she was the perfect girl, so in need of being controlled and abused, it was going to be wonderful, Jack loved being in control and Marie was his dream come true. She was a good girl, no drinking, no smoking, he didn’t know what could have happened or why she was in the police car.
Jack stood in the shadows, so close to his girl, but so far away. He wanted so bad to know what happened, why the cops had come for her but he couldn’t, it was so frustrating and hurt so bad.

The police car drove away. Neither of the officers spoke to Marie as they got into the car and took her to the Detention center. She felt so bad seeing her parents crying as they took her away, but worse yet, she saw him there, Jack, her dream lover, he was standing alone in the darkness. Her heart felt like it was going to burst when she saw him, her mouth was dry and her head started to pound knowing that her mistake had kept her from him.
The drive was long and agonizing, Marie wanted so desperately for it all to be over. They were taking her to the detention center to be processed, and then she’d have her court date. Marie felt so cold and naked in her cute white tank top and her baggy sweat pants. Her nipples were hard and rubbed against the smooth cotton of her top. Marie didn’t have large breasts, but they were sensitive and she longed to touch herself, but she felt the pain of the cuffs biting into her back keeping her fingers from her aching nipples.
Marie closed her eyes and wished that it had been Jack that had cuffed her, she imagined his hard dick against her as he threw her down on the mattress and prepared to fuck her. Marie was a petite girl, about 5’3” and 110 lbs, she imagined Jack on top of her, his hand over her mouth keeping her quiet as he spread her legs, the cuffs biting into her wrists as he mounted her crushing her underneath him as his big dick was ready to thrust into her desperate, aching pussy.
The car slammed to a halt and Marie tried to stifle her moans of frustration. She’d come so close, yet she’d screwed it up. Why did she try and get back at the teacher, why, why?

Jack slowly pulled into the detention center with his lights off. He parked out of sight of the cops, but where he could see Marie being taken out of the back seat of the police car. Marie looked so delicate and scared between the two large cops. Jack liked the girl so much, and it wasn’t just about the sex. Over the months he’d come to love talking to her on the phone. She could be such a little brat, but

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:47 PM

My Negro Slave Story II

Slave # 7 was delivered 2 days later to with all the documentation done. His name was change to Buck Dow the property of MR &MRS DOW. As one of the hired overseer (white man) rode the wagon with the DOW’S new purchase property in front of the mansion Buck sat up at the sight of MR&MRS Dow. MR Dow said, “I could see the special penis harness is in place and the defiant look in Bucks eyes. Good that just the way I want him said MRS Dow in 4 weeks time he will be begging to fuck a White woman and lord knows we got a county full of NIGGER LOVEING White Woman who would play dearly for a piece of BUCK. Bring him in the basement, CAGE and Wash him down came the order from the porch.

For the next 3 weeks Buck was not allowed to see any other slave. His nights were spent chain in the mansion basement. Buck was work hard from sunrise to sun set training running, weight lifting, various exercise each day as if he was a champion prizefighter. Buck meals were that same as every other slave pork, grits, oats, all this was done with the special penis harness in place so he would not masturbate. After 2 weeks Buck look forward to the evening not only could he rest but he look forward to seeing MS DOW.
She had already begun to plant the idea that white woman were the sexiest ladies on earth
Each night she would visit buck in a lewd outfit

Bucks torment took several forms he would be chain to the wall with a dog collar around his neck, hands tied around his back he was place on his knees. MRS Dow and her Husband and 2 overseers with whips at their side would visit at night MRS Dow would perform a sexy strip tease for approx.1 hour. Having Buck smell the sweet perfume and looking at her Large White cleavage protruding from her outfits up close but not allowed to touch was taking his toll on Buck. Each time Buck thought he could put his lips on MRS Dow big teasing cleavage or breast he was severely slap. She taunted him with word like “ poor Buck you want to put those big coon lips on my big beautiful Tits” as she played with them causing them to almost pop out of her dress.

Once a week MRS DOW would allow Buck to CUM. She used this occasion to enforce the white woman dominance. Buck penis harness was removed although still chained to the wall MRS DOW would probe his mind with questions in her sweet southern drool “ Was you thinking about me while you were in the field today boy”. Buck franticly shock he head yes “ Was you thinking about my big white tits around your coon dick”. ” “Would you like me to jerk that coon dick off the way I did before? “Yes” came the word and tears ran down Buck face. MRS Dow continued with a evil grin she said to her overseers “ If I get a good report that Buck has work hard in the field I may let him fuck my Big white TITS” which brought laughter for the overseer and MR Dow

Buck saw the wooden stock being placed in the middle of the floor and know what it meant. He would have to walk over to it, bend down and put is head in the stock it would be fasten around his neck MRS DOW walk over to Buck pat him on the head and said to

MR Dow “Look at that Big horse Dick as she ran her hands over his entire body. Buck was shaking from sexual excitement. A blindfold was place of Bucks eyes. MRS Dow positions herself behind BUCK and lean her body on his butt She lube her hands with oil
And started stoking his raging 12 inch Dick. She torment Buck with word like “ tell me Buck do you think about me in the field ever think about my soft white pink lips around your dirty NIGGER DICK”. Or maybe you want to fuck my Big White ASS. Buck was severely trembling as MRS Dow hands flew up& down Buck massive Penis. Knowing it would NOT be long before Buck was to shot is load.

MRS Dow look at MR DOW who had a big grin on his face and said Honey don’t this look great I’m going drain this Big black baby maker. Just than BUCK tense up while MRS Dow right hand work faster. The overseers grab Buck to steady him MS Dow used booth hands in rapid session to extract 4 big loads of cum from Buck. As usual MS Dow used both hand to slowly extract a 5th glob of cum from BUCK who lay limp in the overseers hands. MRS Dow got up and walks toward her Husband showing him her right hand that was full of Buck cum. MS Dow said in her southern drool “Next week I’ll have that coon shooting his big load between my BIG old Tits

To be continued

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:48 PM

The New Eden Project

by Taskmaster of Women

Chapter One Arrival at New Eden

There were ten of us who set out on our mission to build a new Utopian society. We knew how deeply flawed the existing state of the world was, and we decided to turn our back on civilisation and found a new community, where we would live in a different way, in harmony with Nature and the planet. Well, at least that's how they told us things were going to be in New Eden. And, even though I'd long since learned that life was full of surprises, not even at my most paranoid could I ever have imagined what our new lives were REALLY going to be like. But I'm getting ahead of myself a bit.

Like I said, ten of us set out to build what we called the New Eden project. There were five girls and five blokes who (until we woke up the morning of our arrival) had been our boyfriends. They'd taken us out, done handyman jobs on our homes, wined and dined us by candlelight. They'd sweet-talked us and romanced us, and generally made us feel that we were the most important people in the world to them. Those were the days.

My name is Laura. I was Jim's girlfriend, and had been for the last three years. I thought he was completely trustworthy and that he loved me as much as I loved him. We often used to talk about how appealing it would be to leave the city and live in a self-sufficient community in the countryside.

Our friends thought the same as us, or at least, the girls did. Now, I wonder if the blokes just went along with us because they'd already had the whole conspiracy planned out. Or maybe the scheme they dreamed up came much later.

Anyway, we bought a large caravan and hooked it up to a 4x4. Then we went out on a holiday in the countryside. Living in London, you have to go miles and miles to see any real greenery, so we headed up far away. It was in the Highlands of Scotland that we eventually made camp.

The first time, everything went fine. Beautiful scenery, the men all kind and helpful and considerate, all of us having a good time - it seemed like Paradise. And we all enjoyed it so much that we vowed to go back again as soon as we could.

The place itself was in the middle of nowhere. Large areas of the Scottish Highlands are still completely uninhabited. By people, at least. And it was such a beautiful setting. We felt absolutely at harmony with Nature there and full of inner peace. Surrounded by mountains, with the smell of the heather all around, it seemed like a truly magical place.

We were all professional people, in our late twenties or early thirties. At 34 years old, Jim was the oldest, a junior solicitor. I was 31 and worked as a journalist. The rest of our team included an architect, a nurse, a social worker, a teacher, a policeman, a copywriter for an advertising firm, a junior doctor, an assistant editor in a publishing company, a librarian, and a junior researcher for the BBC.

It wasn't just that we fell in love with the place; we fell in love with the idea of creating a self-sufficient community out there in the wild and beautiful Scottish countryside. For two years we pooled our resources, all of us paying in a sum of money each month to a new bank account we set up, and called "The New Eden Project."

For two years we pooled our resources, till at last, a few days after my 31st birthday, Jim asked us all to meet together to discuss the project.

"We've managed to get together a quarter of a million pounds," he told us. "Let's go and buy that land and make our dreams come true!"

We were all so excited, and for weeks later us girls could talk of nothing else when we met. What the boys talked about, of course, we know now, but at the time, we thought they felt the same way about the project as we did.

Anyway, we all gave in our notice, and travelled up in the caravan to the Scottish Highlands. It was going to be more than just a holiday this time - it was going to be a dream come true. And, I suppose, from the point of view of the blokes, it DID turn out that way. For us poor ladies, though, it turned into, not a wonderful dream, but a living nightmare, a hell on earth.

I suppose I should introduce the rest of the party. Like I said, I'm Laura, aged 31, 5ft 10 inches tall and weigh 154 lbs. I've got hazel eyes and naturally red hair. Till I REALLY loused up on this one, you'd probably have called me the most sensible of the five girls, too. Jim is 31, 6ft 1 tall, with jet black curly hair and weighing 196 lbs. Then there's Carol, Cass to her friends, who's got mousey brown hair, and stands 5ft 9 inches tall, weighing in at 182 lbs. Not fat, either; she's a fitness fanatic and has more muscles on her than loads of blokes I've met. She's the junior researcher for the BBC. Then there's Elaine, who's 5ft 6, 140 lbs, with natural blonde hair and blue eyes. She works as a copywriter for an advertising agency. There's Melissa, who's 5ft 2, 128lbs, with chestnut brown hair and grey eyes. She's the nurse. The last of us girls, though not necessarily the least, is Zoe, 5ft 5, 140lbs, with jet black hair and dark piercing eyes. She's the social worker. As for the blokes, Jim was the leader of the project. There was also Tim, a junior doctor, aged 29, 5ft 10, 182lbs; Alan, a policeman, 30, 6ft 2, 210lbs; Maurice, the architect, 28, 5ft 9, 194lbs; and Colin, the librarian, 26, 5ft 7, 180lbs.

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:49 PM

Pantyhose Feet, Part I

Fairly standard foot worship.

CuckoldWannabe, [email]

F/m, Feet, lingerie, D/s, BDSM, consensual, humiliation, Serious

She walks into the house at 6:30pm. I think that I am ready for her.

She is dressed to the nines, of course, as she always is nowadays. This is only right, since her clothing budget alone now consumes about 65% of my salary.

"Honey, I'm home," she says ironically.

"You wouldn't believe the day I had. It was so hot at the office."

The office of which she speaks is the Law Firm of Carroll, Bergen, and Smith, where she has been working as a secretary for the last year.

She sits down on our leather couch, looking at me expectantly at me- and more significantly, at the freshly prepared martini in my hand. I set it before her on the coffee table, atop a coaster.

I stand for a second, transfixed by her beauty. She is a woman whose presence alone speaks of command A look from her eyes is enough to make me melt, blush, or cry, depending on her mood.

She clears her throat, bringing me out of my reverie, and motions to her feet.

I get down on my knees

I kiss the pointy toe part of both shoes passionately, being sure to taste the leather with my tongue. Slowly, gently, I remove the shoe from her left foot. My face is close to her foot, so that I may catch the scent that first escapes when shoe parts from foot. That is, indeed, the true essence of her foot. There is much wonderful scent and sweat clinging to both her pantyhose-covered foot and the shoe, and the scent that first escapes is pure pleasure. I distinctly feel, for that moment, pleasure chemicals being released in my brain. I waste no time in licking the inside part of the shoe, which just a moment ago had held her blessed foot.

It is important that I only take a brief second to lick the shoe once it is off of her foot. This part is, according to her, purely for my pleasure, having nothing to do with hers. However, while I do it, I see a sardonic smile creep over her face. She knows that I worship every object that is closely associated with her flesh.

I hold her foot in my hands, like the splendid trophy that it is. Just then, she gives me a sharp look. A small shot of adrenaline runs through my system - what could I have done? Is the martini too dry? Did I take too long licking her pungent, supple, $8000 shoe? Just then, before I have a chance to truly panic, she points downward with her right hand in the universal gesture of "Down on the floor." Well, universal between us, anyway.

On my back now, head resting against the back of the couch. Her foot nearly covering my face. The silkiness of the pantyhose against my face. The difficulty breathing. The smell. The smell. The smell.

As she said, it was warm at her office that day. Her feet are very sweaty. Besides, I know of her Friday Policy. On Fridays, she always wears the pantyhose that she wore the previous day. I imagine that by doing this, she puts off more of her womanly scent than usual while she walks through her office. I have witnessed firsthand the lawyers' tendency to drool over her extra hard on Fridays. She never fails to get laid on Fridays.

She hasn't had sex with me in two years.

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:50 PM

Part XIII

Dark Passions

In the depths of the night-cloaked northern forest, a woman stirred in her sleep and moaned.

The dreams tormented Conine as they always did. Her sisters screamed as they were dragged by the Romans to the whipping posts, to the torture chambers, to the flat, cum stained wooden frames in the soldiers barracks. Satyra screamed as she was carried away by Gracus men, who tied her to a tree and cut her with their swords til her body was covered head to toe in blood. And then Gracus came and she was lifted up onto the cross while her sisters that she had failed hurled abuse at her, coming up beside the laughing Roman and the ramming the iron nails into her flesh, leaving her die hideously.

She wept, in the dream and in the real world. She had failed them all. She was not clever enough, was not strong enough. All her fault.

When the ground in her dream opened beneath her, she did not question it. When she toppled into the yawing abyss, she did not struggle to escape. She deserved damnation, deserved to fall. And fall she did, for what seemed like an eternity, as the howls of the thrice damned rose up to meet her.

Satyra, she sobbed, Satyra forgive me my love. I failed you.

I failed you all.

***

Satyra stared at the unconscious form of Conine in wonder and fear.

Part of her surprise was how much her lover had changed. Even with her head lying on the stone floor, it was obvious the warrior woman’s hair was much longer, curling down around her breasts and broad back where it had once been cropped short about her shoulders. She still wore her leather boots and greaves, but in place of her armour she was now clad in two strips of buckskin; one as a loincloth, the other to cover the generous curves of her chest. She appeared leaner as well, her already toned figure now somewhat more muscular in appearance without having added any mass. The marks of the whip upon her bronzed skin had faded to dim stripes, faint reminders of the ugly wounds that had adorned her hanging on the cross.

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:51 PM

The Step-father
He’s there again
Watching you as you sleep
You can sense him
You move slightly
Oh no
He knows you’re awake
You try to run
But as always you can’t
You know what he wants
You also know this time is going to be different
He’s just standing there
Waiting
Staring
You can tell that he’s becoming impatient with you
Inwardly you smile
You know you must act quickly
There are a million thoughts running through your head
You think of the gun
You stole from your dad
That resides in a box
Under your bed
You sense by now he is very impatient
Soon he will resort to force
But no
You can’t let it happen again
It’s not right
He doesn’t have the right
You told your mother he was bad news
She didn’t listen
She never listened
She only saw HIM!
The perfect man
A great guy
Yeah right!
You’ve seen the real him
He doesn’t really love your mother

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:52 PM

She is over my knee, naked save her collar. I am still in my work clothes, shoes, tie and all. I haven't had time to shower yet. My pattern was disrupted when I came home and found my sub breaking the rules.M, my pet, gets off work thirty minutes before I do. We have established that she has plenty of time to come home, shower, start dinner, and be waiting for me, naked but for her collar, on her knees inside the front door. Sometimes I need to be sucked off when I first walk in the door, other times I just pat her on the head and send her into the kitchen. Once in a while I'll have her bathe me, or strip me and give me a tongue bath (only in those instances when I'm feeling particularly demanding and evil).But when I came home she was on the phone with her friend. When I entered she looked at me, her eyes wide. She was sitting on the counter, legs crossed at the ankle. Her legs were smooth and pale white, very nice. Her body was supple and freshly scrubbed her pubic area cleanly shaven. She had her shoulder length hair back in a loose ponytail on the back of her head. As per my household rules, she wore no makeup. I allowed her to paint her nails every other day, a new color on her fingers and toes (they always had to match), but she only wore makeup when I instructed her to do so."I've got to go, Cindy," M said quietly. "Ok, I'll call you later. Bye."None of M's friends knew how she liked her sex life. She kept it a secret that she needed to be used, to be owned and treated like property. On some level it embarrassed her, but on another level she needed it, couldn't be satisfied without it. She hung up and sunk to the floor, sunk to her knees, and her eyes sunk to my feet. Her shoulders trembled a little, as she slid her hands behind her back and locked her fingers."I'm sorry, sir," she whispered. "I was waiting for you, and the phone just rang. I must have lost track of"I grabbed her by the ponytail and pushed her face to my shoes. She kissed them and pleaded for mercy.It was bullshit. But the begging was part of the fun. Well, most of the fun if I'm being perfectly candid. "Over here, bitch. NOW!" I barked, and walked away. She crawled after me, dogging my heels, still whining. "And shut your slutty mouth.""Yes, sir," she murmured. I have always instructed her to call me 'sir' instead of 'master'. I used to rely on 'master' for my pets until I acquired a black subby. Call my politically correct, but it made me a little uncomfortable to have her call me 'master', especially when I was whipping her, so from then I switched to 'sir' and never looked back. I find there is a stigma of distance and respect that is instilled in our usage of the word.I pulled my belt out of the loops and sat on the loveseat. I patted my lap, as if summoning my dog. Looking sheepish, M crawled up onto my lap and thrust her ass up into the air.I whipped her ass until it was glowing and red. She made whimpering noises deep in her throat; my favorite. I set the belt down and used my hand, pausing to admire my red handprint in between strokes. Finally, after a dozen sharp slaps, I felt her chest start to heave. She was reaching her limit.I pulled her thighs apart and stuck my finger into her twat. She was gooey, oozing enough juice to drown the little man in the boat. I pinched her thigh, twisted it, and pulled her legs farther apart. She had to rest on her hand to keep her balance, as I pulled one leg off the floor to leave her sopping pussy wide open and exposed. Then I smacked it. She yelped. I smacked it again."Who do you belong to?" I asked quietly."You, sir. I belong to you.""You are my property.""I" her breath hitched, "I am your property. Body and soul, yours."I grabbed the knot of her hair and jerked her head back."Say it again.""I am your property, sir."I let her head go, and traced her red ass. I wrote

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:53 PM

RULES

I visited a professional dominatrix eight years ago while visiting another city. We hit it off very well on the first meeting and got together a few days later for some “vanilla” time together. A tour of the city and dinner, then she took me to the airport. Little did I know that that was the beginning of my new life. Within six months she was sending all her belongings all the way across the country and moving in with me. For the first couple of years we really enjoyed ourselves. Played a lot. Fulfilled a lot of secret fantasies. I always wondered though why she insisted on taking photos of every scene. And later, why I never saw those photos again.

As days turned to months and years, we began a slow downward spiral. I began to resent that she refused to do any work of any kind and she began to resent that I began to go about my life as if she wasn’t there. I just figured that since she didn’t want to contribute to the “family” that she didn’t want to be a part of it. What I didn’t realize was that she WAS a part of the “family” and always would be because she had “ammunition!”

Three days ago I came home from a regular ten day trip to the Midwest and was taken by surprise. First that Miss M took the time to come and get me at the airport and second that she was acting very dominant and talking about some serious life changes for me in the very near future. When I pressed her on it, she just said, “Wait and see.”

When we got home I noticed that the house was impeccable. She said, “see the way the house looks? I want it to stay this way. Now lets go in the bedroom and have a little session like we used to.” Wow, sounded like fun to me. She told me to strip and lay on the bed on my stomach. It is a bed with a solid steel headboard and chains mounted to each corner. She quickly and expertly cuffed my wrists and ankles and locked them to the corners. It seemed to me they were locked a lot tighter than in the past. As soon as I heard the last lock snap shut, Miss M’s demeanor changed 180 degrees. I saw a new look in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. Something fierce, unforgiving and totally resolved. I suddenly felt my heart in my throat. I quickly came to the conclusion that I was not in a very good position and that I was an idiot to let myself get put there. I started to plead with her to let me go. That I would try to be nicer to her and make sure she felt like she was part of the family. All she said was, “Too little too late!”

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:54 PM

My Sentence

Many of you must have seen pictures on the net of men suffering
depraved acts, and wondered how they came to be in such a state. I
don't mean nice pictures of models, getting a few quid by pretending
to suck another man off. I mean the pictures and movies that really
disturb you. Perhaps they turned you on, even when they disgusted you?

Well, here is my story, of how I came to be in that position.

I started out in a pretty straightforward way, as a prepubescent I
felt guilty for feeling "sexy", and as an adolescent I found more and
more exotic ways of punishing myself for it, especially cock-bondage
that hurt most if I came.

As young adult, I had a succession of relationships with women, which
always came to an end, always supposedly for some other reason than
that they just weren't cruel enough, and slowly I came to crave a
"real" relationship, where I would get the cold domination and
chastisement I wanted. So I tried a few men in amongst the women,
convinced that they would be less "soppy". They weren't. They still
wanted me to love them, and worse, they started to go soppy on me.

Until one day, one of them (yes, you guessed it, I met him through an
ad I'd posted), who got angry. He realised quickly that I wasn't into
him, and quizzed me about my past experiences. I told him more than I
should have done and he declared me a "Prick-Tease", and said that if
I wasn't going to love him, I'd have to suffer. Then, while I was
strapped down, after an hour of being kept hard and frustrated, he
announced his punishment. I was going to be a slave to a succession of
owners, whom I was going to find, by placing adverts. Each of them
would know in advance that they would have me for at most six months,
to make it less likely that they would start to fall for me, and they
would be instructed to break me into "proper" submission to sadists.

He gave me the choice then, when I was so close to coming, whether I
would rather he posted the pictures of me he had on the web, or
whether to sign an agreement to my sentence, which would last two
years. I signed as soon as he loosened my right hand enough to write,
and then he tightened the straps again, and applied a tiny fast
vibrator to the base of my cock until I had the best orgasm of my
life.

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:55 PM

MY TIME WITH KATRINA

I’ve decided to tell the whole story of my time with Katrina back when I was in college. I think this way I may make better sense of the whole experience. It was a long time ago, but some parts come back to me as if it were last year.

I

I was a junior at Cornell in Ithaca, N.Y. I was the lead backstroker on the swim team when the school was very competitive in the sport. The school year was scheduled differently then. The academic semester did not end with the Christmas break. You returned in early January for three more weeks, the semester ended and then there was one more week off called “intersession” before the next semester started. Coach requested his top swimmers stay at school during intersession where he conducted 2-a-day workouts to prepare us for the heart of the season.
It was Friday, late afternoon after the final workout of the week. The weather was cold and snow was predicted for that evening. The weather fit my mood; I was very discouraged. Despite my hardest efforts, my swim times were slipping, and, even worse,
My grades were falling badly. If ever I was willing to give my life over to someone else to call the shots, now was that time.
I lived at the fraternity where my room and board had been paid for the full year ahead of time. Accept for the President and two others, the place was pretty much empty for the week. I didn’t want to go back there yet, so instead I was at Frank’s apartment where he was having an informal kind of gathering. Frank was a good friend of mine. He had been a senior swimmer on the team when I was a sophomore and we had really hit it off. Right after graduation he married his sweetheart, Helen. He had been accepted into Law School and they got an apartment off campus.
Also present at Frank’s place were a couple of Helen’s grad student friends, including Katrina, and one of Frank’s fellow law students. With each of us holding a glass of wine, I found myself sitting with and talking to Katrina. My first impression of her was that she was somewhat overweight and kind of plain looking in that washed out grad student kind of way. Her hair was jet black and fairly short. She had a brightness about her that made talking to her very easy. She was also a good listener. During this time I told her why I felt so blue. She did say that I did need cheering up and she could help.
Katrina was three or four years older than I. She labored as a graduate assistant and was working on her doctorate in early education. Her dissertation concerned the learning styles of second graders. One thing I didn’t know then would become important for all that would follow. She was into hypnosis. At one point, for some reason, she hypnotized some of the children in her control group. There was a big fuss and her Department wanted expel her from school. Her faculty advisor was just able to save her position but told her that if he heard that she had used hypnosis for any reason while she was still his student, he would lead the charge to have her dismissed!

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:56 PM

I was 22 years old when I first visited Ms. Beck. I finished work at 5pm and started the 45 miles drive out of the city in my green Volkswagen hatchback. By sundown I was driving along winding roads scattered with vineyards and dairy farms. Ms. Beck’s farm was situated on over 20 acres of rolling hills. I accidentally drove past the dirt road leading to her house, and had to double back before finding it. I parked next to a black & white painted mailbox in the shape of a cow. My hands were cold and trembling as I straightened my tie and jacket, locked my car, and walked up the heavy wooden steps to her front door.

I knocked on Ms. Beck’s door, and waited for a few minutes.

“Hi, hun,” her voice startled me from behind.

I turned and saw the 58 year old woman, dressed in a thick red flannel shirt and jeans. She was the splitting image of Betty White. She was carrying a large metal bucket filled with animal feed in each hand. I started down the steps to help her.

“Fiddlesticks,” she mumbled, brushing me aside, “I’ve been doing this for over 50 years, I think I’ll manage.”

“Yes Ma’am,” I replied, stepping aside as she carried the buckets up the stairs and placed them on the porch.

“Well,” she said, brushing her hands off and stamping her feet on the doormat, “Come inside. Wipe your feet first.”

I followed Ms. Beck inside. Hers was a two-story house built in the century prior. Inside was cozy, with knitted throws and knick-knacks as far as the eye could see. Ms. Beck invited me to sit on the soft couch in her living room.

“Would you like some cocoa?” She asked, removing her tan work boots.

“No thank you, Ma’am,” I replied.

“All right,” she said, “Be a dear and hand me my slippers, would you?”

She pointed next to me, and I picked her house slippers up from the floor. I held them out to her, and she sat back in her chair.

“Why don’t you put them on for me?” She asked, lifting her feet from the floor.

With a tight throat, I nodded and knelt on the floor. Gently I placed the slippers on Ms. Beck’s feet.

“Thank you,” she nodded, withdrawing her feet back to the floor.

“Now then,” Ms. Beck said, standing up. “It’s getting late and I still need to make supper after I tend to you. So get undressed now. I need to go check my messages for a moment.”

“Yes Ma’am,” I replied.

She went into the den while I removed all of my clothing and put them aside. I heard Ms. Beck typing on her keyboard for several minutes before returning.

“How old are you?” She asked, sitting back down in her old-fashioned recliner.

I told her my age.

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:58 PM

TALL TALE

by Zebulon

This is a work of fiction. No reference to real persons

is intended. It contains strong, non-traditional sexual

imagery and language. If you don't like this kind of

thing, don't read it.

This story may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper

credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being

posted, and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site

where it is being posted.

Feedback is welcome. [email]]

(MF, Bond)

* * * * * Start of Story * * * * *

‘I’ll never find someone to love,’ Rachel thought in

frustrated anger as she stabbed at the doorbell.

Moments crawled by before Javier answered. He didn’t

seem surprised to see her.

“Date end early?” he asked with a half smile as she

stormed past him into his small apartment. It was

almost comic to see them together. She was six-four

and he was a full foot shorter. From a distance he

could have passed as her son.

“Damn and double-damn,” she said with venom as she

plunked herself down at the table separating the

kitchen from the living area. “All I want is a decent

relationship. Is that too much to ask?”

It was a rhetorical question. He didn’t answer.

Instead he said, “Coffee?”

She shook her head sharply. Glorious blond hair

swished in an angry swirl. But the anger wasn’t

directed at him. Javier had become her confidant –

her best friend actually. She loved spending time

with him when their busy schedules would allow. He

was a great listener and a really deep thinker.

“Goddammit,” she exploded as he took the seat across

from her, “do you know what that fuck-wad said to me?”

Javier half-smiled again indicating with a slight

raising of his eyebrows that he didn’t. He knew she

was extremely pissed. Normally, she never used

profanity.

“He said he liked me as a friend.” Her eyes flamed

and then almost started tearing at the memory. “Last

month he said we had a future together and tonight he

likes me as a friend. Then the jerk starts asking me

about Betsy Grant.”

Another eyebrow lift.

“One of the cheerleaders. Betsy’s shorter than you

for Christ sakes.” Rachel snorted in disgust and

continued, “I finally find a tall guy who seems

interesting and he turns out to be a snake. Not only

that, but he’s a wimp-snake. You should have seen the

spineless rat’s expression while he was telling me all

this. . . .” And she was off. Talking with animation,

waiving her hands, raising her voice.

Javier listened with quiet intensity. Never

interrupting. He offered only an occasional look of

empathy or confusion.

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 09:59 PM

I really had no plan or idea as to what I was going to do. Was I really going to attempt an escape? Given the liberties that had already been taken with me I knew very well that if I was discovered now I would more than likely be handled less than kindly. But I had reached a point of no return. What else could I do? I sure as hell couldn’t go back in to the basement and attempt to rebind my ankles. The leather cuffs on my wrist presented an enormous challenge and my best bet was to try and find something that could assist in working them off, like a knife in the kitchen. Looking around and trying to get my bearings I realized I was near the living room. I slowly hobbled through it figuring the kitchen would be around the corner. My eyes darted around to take in my environment and I paused momentarily at a small table by the couch. It was adorned with numerous photos. Many of them were of a woman, however it was not Janet. This woman was older with long blonde hair and a rather full figure. Her face was slightly wrinkled however it appeared that she may have been very attractive when she was younger. Many of the photos were of her and the two dogs that Tom and Janet had with them. I found this odd that there would be no photos of either of my captors, and who was this woman? I dismissed it as being a relative of some sort and set about towards the kitchen. With my knees still bound with chord this was becoming a difficult trek and the rope dug tightly in to my skin. Turning the corner I came face to face with a large mirror at the end of a small hall. My figure came in to full view and I appeared haggered and sweaty. I saw that my ball gag was green and it was very large, my cheeks were bulging out and drool was slowly pouring on to my chest. My eyes looked weary and my face was red and sweaty. Suddenly my eyes caught something I had not been privy to. A collar was buckled tightly around my neck. This in itself was not particularly alarming, however it was what was attached to the collar that made my heart skip a beat. There was a small little electronic device that had a glowing red light on it. It was no larger than a garage door opener. I stepped up to the mirror to try and make out exactly what it was. The letters appeared backwards in the mirror, but I was able to decipher the small white writing across the object. It was one word…”Invisi-fence.” It took another moment but it soon dawned on me what that meant. This was probably one of those electronic invisible fence things that people use to train dogs. If the dog left a particular area, such as a yard, they would receive a pulsating shock from the device, and now this thing was attached to me! It appeared to be a part of the collar itself, which upon further review was actually padlocked around me. Even if I could free my hands there was a chance that this thing couldn’t come off! And how was it programmed. If I left the house, would I be shocked? I quickly determined that this would have to be addressed later as the first step would have to be working to free my wrists. I had no clue if Tom and Janet were still in the home and I wasn’t incredibly anxious to find out. I entered the kitchen and my eyes darted to a set of drawers near the sink. It was a pretty safe bet that one of them hosed the utensils…and in there would be the key to my freedom. If I could find a sharp enough knife, more than likely I would be able to cut through the leather. It would be an awkward scenario to negotiate with my wrists lashed behind me, but it was my only option. I hobbled forward towards the drawers and turned myself around to pull it open with my hands. The pain that shot through me that instant was blinding and one I would not be quick to experience again. My eyes winced shut as I felt a sharp, intense, jarring pinch to my neck. I dropped to my knees instantly, and in retrospect I was lucky to not have fallen completely over. I writhed in pain as I began to hear a slight buzzing noise. I realized that my collar was sending an electric shock to my neck. I rolled to my side and just like that it ceased. I was panting through my nose, struggling to breathe around my gag and my forehead was covered in sweat. As my eyes opened I realized I was at my captors feet. I gazed up in to the cross faces of Tom and Janet. Tom spoke first.
“Well, not bad…not bad at all, I thought it would take you a couple of hours to come to and figure your way out of the basement, but you made it in about 50 minutes.”
Janet interjected

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 10:00 PM

Anna’s Ordeal
Part 1
Anna Mateus had every reason to celebrate that night. Her brother Jose had shot and seriously wounded a soldier in the junta’s elite guard. He had given the secret police the slip, and was well on his way to a hideout. Anna was in a nightclub. She had danced with at least four boys, and was halfway intoxicated from the tequila. She could not contain her delight, but the drink had made her drop her guard, and she made the grave mistake of boasting of her brother’s escape, Unknown to her a seedy informer had heard her indiscretion, and telephoned the information to Captain Umbreo of the Juntas secret police. In the small hours of the morning, the tall willowy 17year old Anna Mateus, left the tiny cellar bar. She walked alone the familiar short route home, through the back streets to her father’s house. Little did she know that in the next few hours, she was to be arrested, thrown into a police cell and subjected to a most intimate and excruciating torture.
Captain Umbreo of the junta’s henchmen sat behind his desk. He was answering a call from an agent in a bar. The sister of a wanted rebel student had been overheard boasting of her brother’s evasion, and escape .Umbreo knew the club in question. He recorded a detailed description of the girl, and lost no time sending a squad of men to abduct her. Anna Mateus was to be arrested, unharmed, then brought in to be clinically electro tortured to extract information on the safe house.
Anna saw the jeep a block away, but they had been tailing her. The vehicle screeched to a stop 10 yards in front. Anna made a run for it. She was a good runner, but her chunky boots and, close fitting jeans encumbered her. Soon she was overpowered by a burly woman guard, and herded at gunpoint to the jeep. Instructed not to take beat the prisoner up, the squad quickly searched Anna, then bundled her into the jeep and drove her to a secret interrogation center, some miles out in the jungle. Anna lay blindfolded on the floor in the back of the jeep, her heart racing with abject terror at the awful realization of what they could do to her.
The jeep entered a small fenced compound, surrounding an old Spanish Colonial building. It drew to a halt at an open door. Anna was pulled out and hustled down a flight of steps into a small, dark cell. A guard laughed and shouted “Someone will come for you, maybe very soon”, and then the door was locked on her. In the corner of her cell was a crude lavatory and a bowl of water. She could at least clean up. Unable to sleep, she lay on the hard wooden slatted cot trying desperately to close her mind to the fearful imaginings of what they might do to her. She clung to the hope that they might go easy on her .The cell was cold and damp, and she lay curled up, shivering. She was dressed for a night out, in a sleeveless black top. Her dark olive skin soon becoming a mass of goose bumps. Her corduroy jacket and scarf had been taken from her during the search, along with a purse containing notes, and receipts. Eventually she fell into a fitful sleep.
She woke in a cold sweat. There was the sound of her cell door unlocking. In the dismal light, Anna could see a women dressed in a short white coat. The sinister looking women barked” Get up you traitorous bitch, we are now ready for you.”

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 10:01 PM

“I’m leaving,” I finally said as I stormed through the revolving door. Suddenly I felt a tug on my dress, looking back I noticed it was caught on the bottom corner of the door behind me. Brad was standing behind the other panel with a smirk on his face, so I knew he must have caught my dress in the door. “Very funny Brad, you asshole,” I said as I bent over to un-catch my dress. Then Brad started pushing the door causing my dress to pull tighter. “Stop pushing you idiot! Can’t you see my dress is caught,” I said, but he just smiled and kept pushing harder and faster. “What are you doing? Stop, STOP, STOP IT, STOP!” I screamed until the side seam of my dress gave way and the door pushed me completely out of it. I grabbed my torn dress from the door and tried to drape it over my nakedness, but Brad grabbed the piece on the other side and gave it a strong tug pulling it completely away. I immediately tried to push my way through so I could get my dress back and found that Tina and Bob were out in front jamming the door so only a small crack of about six inches was open to the outside. I found myself trapped in the revolving door wearing only my white lace demi-bra, thong panties, sheer beige thigh highs, and pink pleather pumps.

“What are you doing? Let me out of here,” I pleaded as all of them laughed. “OK, the joke’s over, just let me out already,” I persisted as I pushed helplessly against the door. “You want to come out? Then take off your bra,” Brad said. “Yeah right! Why are you doing this? Just let me out,” I replied. “Because we want to see your titties”, Brad curtly responded. To which I replied, “No way.” Then Tina said, “she’s right, maybe we should just go and let everybody find her here tomorrow morning,” and they started to walk away. I had so many enemies in the office, I couldn’t let them find me like this, I’d never live it down. “No, please, don’t go away, let me out please,” I screamed. When they came back Tina said, “Are you going to show us those tits bitch?” To which I replied, “yes” as I reached behind and unhooked my bra. After I took it off, Brad instructed me to hand it to him through the opening, which I did. At first they just stared at my breasts and nipples (which were protruding immensely from the cold outside). Then they all started laughing again. “OK you had your cheap thrill, just let me out already,” I said, on the verge of tears. Then Bob chimed in, “Not yet, you have to do one more thing first.” “What now”, I said (noticeably crying). “Push them against the glass,” Bob replied. “What do you mean?” I asked (hoping he didn’t mean what I thought). “Bounce your tits against the glass door so we can see them flatten and keep doing it until I tell you to stop.” “If I do this do you promise to let me out,” I said. “Yes, that’ll be the last thing,” Tina said in an almost compassionate voice. So I pushed my breasts flat against the cold glass door, then I pulled back a little and did it again. “Keep doing it until I tell you to stop,” Tom said again as he took out a digital camera and started taking pictures. All of them were now laughing hysterically. I can’t imagine how foolish I looked with my breasts flat up against that glass. By now I was totally crying from the humiliation when Tina started taunting me. “Ahh, poor baby is crying, she doesn’t like showing us her ugly tits. Do you want to come out now?” “Yes, please,” I said as I choked back my tears. “OK, but I have to do something first,” Tina replied. “You said you would let me out if I did this,” I told her. “I am going to let you out, but I have to prepare you first, of course we could just leave you and your naked tits here,” Tina said. “No, no, anything but that,” I replied.

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 10:02 PM

Chapter 5

The girls did not say what time early the next morning would be, but Tammy decided to get something to eat, showered, and to bed as soon as she could. She fixed a few sandwiches and gobbled them down. Next came the shower. She had had a long, hard day. She could not believe what the girls were making her do.
As she showered though, she caught herself playing with her cunt. Soon she came with a wild orgasm. How could this be exciting to her, and yet it was. She finished her shower and slipped into bed, not sure what the next day would bring. At least it was Saturday and she would be a ways away from town. It was an hour drive to the beach.
At five o’clock the next morning Tammy was awakened by Christina and Becky telling her to get her slave cunt to the kitchen. They commanded her to fix them some breakfast. She whipped up some bacon and eggs for them, but was not allowed to eat herself. She served them and was then told to go get dressed; her bathing suit was on the bed.
She remembered that her bathing suit had been given away as not acceptable. She went to her room and found a very small thong bikini. She put it on and as you can imagine she showed all of her ass and most of her breast. About the only thing that was covered was her nipples and her cunt, but just barely in both cases.
She came out wearing the bikini and the girls told her to grab some towels and her purse and get going.
As they drove to the beach Tammy was given a few instructions. As soon as they arrived she was to go ask a man, of their choosing, if he would rub sunscreen on her body; making sure her ass and breast was covered with it. She was to ask if she could lay down on his blanket with him. If he agrees she was to lay with him and then reach over and play with his cock. She was to then invite him back to the car for a blow job as thanks for his applying suntan lotion to her. She told the two girls she understood.
Tammy was driving and Becky was in the back seat when they started. After a while Christina told Tammy to pull over. Tammy did as told and when she did she was told to get in the back seat. Christina got behind the wheel and Becky by her side. Becky told Tammy to remove her thong and to masturbate for the rest of the trip. She was NOT to cum unless she wanted to be punished in front of everyone at the beach.
Tammy slipped off her thong and began to play with her cunt. Her legs were spread as Becky had directed and she was getting wet; fast. It was not real easy to see into her car, but she knew that if a tuck pulled up next to them, she would be quite visible.
She masturbated as directed and really needed to cum. She begged both girls to allow her to come, but she was denied until the reached the beach. When Christina parked the car, they told Tammy she could cum. It took her only a few seconds before she exploded, all over the back seat.
The two girls gave Tammy a few minutes to compose herself and to slip back on the thong. They then gathered up some stuff. Tammy carried the cooler, while the girls each carried only a towel and beach bag.
The girls decided on a spot and then told Tammy to go out in the water and get cleaned off. When she returned, they told her to lay, face down on the blanket and show off her ass. They would be back in a few minutes.

Rabbit1

12-17-2005, 10:03 PM

Woodchuck

12-19-2005, 12:15 PM

That's mine!!!

Chapter One: A blank Page.

Sweat dripped down Nathan’s face. Trish, his girlfriend writhed on all fours in front of him, her ass slapping his hips with every thrust. They were both eighteen years old, and tonight was their last night. Tomorrow she would leave for college, and Nathan would continue on in town with out her.

“Spank my ass Nate.” She said looking back over her left shoulder. Perspiration beading on her face, her brown hair tangled in it and stuck to her. He let a half-hearted palm drop with a smack.

“Harder.” No more looking back, just head down, teeth grinding.

Bang. This time he gave her his right palm, and with a bit more force. Feeling the burning building inside him, he grunted loud, and tried to hold off. For distraction he let his left hand fly again, then the right again alternating from holding either side of her hips, and slapping her.

“Pull…my…hair.” Trish’s voice was barely clear enough to understand now, her own orgasm approaching.

With his right hand on the small of her back, he leaned in and snatched her brown locks with his left. Nate was in another world now. They had only done it four times before anyway, but all four had been standard missionary. Tonight was new, tonight Trish had wanted to try something different, and now she was asking for things he had never thought she wanted. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his head was swimming. Orgasm the only thing his body wanted now, his head finally gave up the battle.

Nathan was hit with the most powerful feeling in his short sexual career. When his balls started to pump, he lost control of his balance, and was unaware when he leaned forward and rammed Trish into the pillow. His hand still clutching the back of her head as she hit her own climax.

Four minutes later they were both aware enough to disengage. Both were huffing for air through wide sloppy smiles. It took them the better part of ten minutes to calm, and then Trish wordlessly rose and started for her clothes. Nate gawked at her skinny form as she dressed before he gathered his words.

“What was that all about, the spanking and stuff?” He said.

“I wanted to try it out…since I’m leaving. What did you think?” She was fastening her bra now, and was already wearing her plain white panties.

“Awesome, sorry about smothering you.” Now he was sitting up in his bed and lacing his hands behind his head.

not the complete text

Rabbit1

12-19-2005, 01:19 PM

That's mine!!!

Well if you want it published you need to either PM me or Email me, because before I can publish it I need some additional information.

Rabbit1

12-19-2005, 04:51 PM

it has been pointed out to me that I did a no no and posted email addresses in this thread ---let me first apologize for that ---as I just copied and pasted files that would contained those email addresses on the story when it was posted ---again my deepest apology to those I did this to

Rabbit1

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:00 AM

TEARDROPS

I’ve decided to start this journal before the events that have happened become too foggy in my mind to remember clearly. I do not know for whom I tell my story; maybe for me to read in the coming years, to remind myself of who I was, where I came from, although I’m beginning to suspect I won’t care. It’s taken me an inordinate amount of effort just to start this—God knows if I’ll ever finish it.
My name is Lysette Kines, of Earth, Canadian born. As part of my undergraduate degree, which I had nearly completed, I signed up for a foreign exchange field study program to Charassa. Charassa is a sparsely inhabited planet in the Sieran system, with wide tracts of uncharted desert along the equator. Only the more temperate poles are inhabited. The rock there is rich in a dozen ores, or so I was told, and ComExCo mining held the rights. It was to Anleyville, near the north pole, that our drop ship was coasting, when the spreadwing malfunctioned during reentry.
There were a dozen of us on board, two students beside myself, the rest ComExCo employees, plus the three crew. The men from ComExCo were ogling me and the other female student pretty fiercely, and I remember feeling embarrassed and mortified. I don’t remember why—maybe it was because of the ogling, but that doesn’t make sense to me now. Anyway, the pilot and copilot did their best as we corkscrewed down toward the orange surface, trying to slow our descent. I was screaming, maybe not

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:00 AM

THE AMY TAKAMOTO STORY

Amy Takamoto, the pretty twenty-three year-old desk clerk at the hotel, was becoming worried about her friend Misaki Kato who had fallen ill earlier in the evening. She had become so terribly tired that the security people in the hotel had taken her to one of the guest rooms to let her lie down and sleep for a while. It had now been more than two hours since they took her to a guest room. Amy decided to go and check on Misaki to see if she was okay. One of the other staff had seen which room she was taken to and had told her the room number. It was one of the soundproof rooms on the traffic side of the hotel.

Amy used her master key to open the door and enter the room. As she stepped into the darkened room and allowed the door to close behind her, she was suddenly grabbed by the hair and her head was pulled backwards by a powerful man. She felt the stun gun in his other hand as he held it against the small of her back.

“Well, well, what have we here?” he said, as he grabbed the frightened Amy by the hair.

He pushed Amy further into the room and allowed her to see the spread-eagled, naked form of Misaki, now sleeping quietly within her restraints on the bed.

“What have you done to her,” Amy asked, “is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” he told her, “I tickled her for a while and now she’s asleep. She’ll wake up in a while.”

“Now, I will allow you to choose,” he told her, “I want you to remove your clothes and lie down on the other bed. You can take them off yourself and lie down on your own, or I can use this stun gun in the small of your back to knock you out so that I can do it for you. What’s it going to be?”

“No, I’ll do it,” she told him, asking “What are you going to do to me?”

She started to remove her uniform, folding each piece carefully and placing it on a chair, while the man watched from the little hallway leading to the door, her only way out of the room.

“Your friend and I had a little fun together as I tickled various parts of her body,” he said, “and she seemed to enjoy herself. I think you and I should share a similar time. And it would be such a waste if we didn’t use the other bed.”

“Please don’t,” Amy pleaded, “I’m so ticklish!”

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:01 AM

I knew from the start of this plan he really hated it. That only made me want it more. It was time to open some new doors in

this relationship and see where they lead. He and I had started earlier in the day. Nothing unusual. He was tied to the bed

and had already serviced me 3 or four times, I tend to lose track and not count. I had just untied him to assume the position

for his flogging when we heard the car door slam. We were not surprised, we expected her! She on the other hand had no idea

what was in her future.

He had planned to get her to the bedroom by making her think there was something wrong with his leg, with his history, it

should work. What a fool she would feel like when all she sees are the cane marks on the back of them from earlier. He yelled

to her, no answer. He called a second time, this time a reluctant "What?" spoken as a half groan returned. He then called to

her "Come help me, I think I blew my knee out" You could hear her stir, but still get in no hurry.

She walked in the room, looked around suspiciously, he rushed her and put the pillow case over her head. "What the hell is

going on? Stop fooling around" she said. She wasnt taking him seriously. He wrapped her hands behind her back and quickly

handcuffed them. "Will, this is a bad joke, it aint funny" She said louder. "Would you SHUT UP you little slut" I said

loudly, but not quite yelling as I stuffed part of the pillow case in her mouth to form a gag. "There, at least that way I

dont have to hear her". You could tell by her body language she was confused and a little frightened. "Tie her up tight, we

don't want the little bitch to get away." She started to struggle and I could see in your eyes that you were taking no

pleasure in this, but you knew better than to disobey me. Her ankles were tied and she was shoved onto the bed. I was

wearing my Black Mini Skirt and one of your White button up Shirts, not buttoned, but tied in a knot just below my breast.

Black Silk stocking and black high heeled shoes. You could never say no to me, especially when I

was dressed like this.

"Get her clothes off and take the pillow case off, but shove her panties in her mouth. I Don't feel like hearing her bitch

and whine. You have to listen to it, but I don't." You are carefully taking her clothes off, when I walk up with scissors

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:03 AM

THE FAMILY SLAVE

Chapter I

It was a bright Saturday morning. Lisa had just gotten out of bed and was getting ready to take a shower before heading down stairs. It was the 1st day of summer and Lisa had just graduated High School. She had turned 18 several weeks before and was not only looking forward to college, but was getting ready to take her senior trip to Canada. Lisa was redheaded and very fair skinned, so her and her 3 best friends decided to go to Canada instead, so Lisa would not have to worry about getting sunburned. She walked to her bathroom and disrobed, looking at her naked body in the full length mirror. “God I love my body” Lisa said in a low voice, talking to herself. Lisa was very pretty by anyone’s standards. She was 5’ 6 inches tall and weighed no more than 105 lbs. As she turned side ways, she took notice of how long her bright red hair had gotten. It was now down to the top of her Butt cheeks, curly and full of body. She loved the way her red hair looked. She had always gotten compliments on how her hair was long, thick, and beautiful. She also loved her breast and ass. She knew her breasts were huge, but being only 105 lbs, she also knew they looked even bigger. They did hang slightly, but were not saggy. She played with her nipples and got them erect immediately. She liked the way her nipples stood out: a good inch and a half when rubbed. Her smooth legs blended well into her ass. Her ass was plump, but not wide. It complimented her breasts perfectly, sticking out just as far behind her, as her breasts did in front of her. Her favorite part of her body was her pussy. She loved not only her big lips and clit, but the fiery red hair that surrounded it. She was not like most girls her age that shaved down there. She loved the color of her hair, on top of her head and on the bottom. She made sure it stayed hairy right below her under garments, all the way between the crack of her ass. The few boys that she had been with definitely did not complain. She even liked pulling it. For some reason it gave her a sensation in her belly. “Well,” she thought, “might as well get my shower in and start this day out!” Lisa jumped in the shower and proceeded to begin the day, just like any other Saturday. Once Lisa got dressed (which on Saturdays was her usual sweat pants and tee shirt), she trotted down the stairs looking forward to breakfast and coffee with her mom, dad, and brother. Unfortunately for her, breakfast was not on the agenda. When she made it down stairs, her parents and brother were sitting in the living room, facing an empty chair, looking very serious and disturbed. “What’s going on?” Lisa said as she rounded the corner, “is everything OK?” By the look of her parents face, Lisa was worried that a family member may have been hurt or in trouble. “Lisa,” her mom said, “sit down in the chair, we need to talk with you.” Lisa had never seen or heard her mom so serious. “Did I do something?” Lisa was starting to get kind of worried now. She started thinking if she had done anything recently that she was trying to hide, that maybe now was found out. As she thought, nothing came to her mind. “Lisa, just sit down, we need to talk about your future.” Her dad spoke, not cracking a smile. She did not understand what he was talking about, but she could tell by the evil smile her 19 year old brother Kyle had on his face, that she was about to be educated. Her mom was sitting in the middle of the couch, facing the chair that Lisa was sitting in. Her dad was to her left and her brother to her right. Before Lisa could ask again what was going on, her mother pulled out a book that looked very familiar to Lisa.

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:04 AM

Chapter 1

I couldn’t believe it when the ad was actually answered.
Then again, I couldn’t believe it when my girlfriend first suggested the ad. We were both exhausted from a bondage session - I was on the bottom this time - and we were about to fall asleep in each other’s arms. “Mark, are you still awake?” she said to me, stroking her blond hair.
“What’s up, Diana?” I asked.
“Do you know how you used to say how exciting it would be to have someone else join us?”
“Well, yeah.”
“I was thinking.maybe we should get somebody.”
I was shocked. She was an animal in bed, but I seriously didn’t expect that. And most of our friends were completely vanilla, so I didn’t know how we could possibly find somebody.
“Like who?” I asked.
“What if we posted a personal ad online? There are lots of BDSM personals sites.”
I was hesitant at first, but the idea of having two women under my power - or controlling me - was too much to bear. Diana and I found a site and we posted this ad:

Male and Female college students - 20 and 19 respectively - seeking female for scenes of multiple orientation and interest. We do not want an emotional relationship, but a long lasting contact which will enable us to play out all possible arrangements: Male dominating both females, 1 female dominating male and other female, Male and female dominating other female, both females dominating male, etc. Must have wide range of interests, including roleplay, exhibitionism/voyeurism, etc. Disease and drug free.

Neither of us really anticipated a response. We thought we’d get on with our lives and just sort of forget about this thing, and let it live as a fantasy. Imagine our surprise when the next day, a girl from our own university responded.
We invited this girl to meet us at our apartment. Her name was Alicia. She was a beautiful black woman - tall, long dark hair, very large breasts. It was perfect, I thought - she contrasted my girlfriend’s blonde hair and blue eyes. Though I couldn’t seem to decide whose tits were perkier. Diana’s were clearly larger, but Alicia’s stood at attention, which amazed me because she the first thing she said to us was:
“I came without a bra or panties so we can get right down to it.” That surprised us a bit. Diana and I were a little nervous, not quite ready to rush into it. We examined her a bit - tight denim shorts, a black tee-shirt, and the sexiest knee-high spike heel boots I’d ever seen.
“So you’ve been into BDSM before?” Diana asked.
Alicia’s response was to open the backpack she had been carrying. We had assumed she had books in there, but in reality, it was a white leash and collar - better against her dark skin - a riding crop, a ball gag, and a few other toys.
“Well, do you want me?” she asked. How could we resist? A gorgeous woman wanted to play bondage games with us, and one who really knew what she was doing.
“Hell yes!” I said. Diana was already licking her lips. She was clearly just as turned

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:05 AM

The Last Night

Filing into the large room I am greeted by familiar and smiling faces. Hands shoot forth to shake mine while others wrap around me to pull me to them in a warm embrace. Uncomfortably, I return each handshake or hug with one of my own. I don’t want to be here. But you would want me here, wouldn’t you? We would both be here if you could have managed to come.

Questioning gazes fall on my person. I know their thoughts, many too afraid to ask. They all want to know where you are. “Where is Stephaney?” they all want to ask. I can feel it.

Should I tell them? They can't know about us...how much in love we were. No one can. It was our moment. Many of them think they know about us. We were the talk of our high school, after all. Everyone wanted to know if we were “doing it” or if we had “gone all the way”. They couldn’t understand our love, though. They could never understand that we were saving ourselves – our moment - for that special day, not wanting our first time to be in a car or a seedy motel room. We wanted it to be special.

I wonder if they still wonder if we ever “went all the way”. Do they still wonder about our first time? Could they understand why we waited until after graduation, for a time when we could be together without fear of interruption or hurried tackiness? I doubt it. They were all in a hurry to lose their virginity while we were in a hurry to spend our lives and love with each other. Yes, we “did it”. But we waited for the right time and place.

It was a hot summer night when we first made love. I remember shivering despite our sweat - or maybe because of it. I was clumsy, scared. I fumbled with the small buttons on your blouse, snapping one off in my slowed haste. You laughed and kissed the tip of my nose, easing my nerves. I laughed too. A sudden confidence took me by surprise and I ripped your blouse open, scattering buttons to "tick, tick, tick" on the hardwood floor. You pulled me against you, embracing me and filling my mouth with words of your love.

I was hard, my cock waiting for the inevitable. Still, I was scared, shivering against your warm and goose bump covered body. I knew you were scared too. How could you not be scared? But we were in love and we were together. That was all that mattered.

I undressed slowly as I could, my still buttoned shirt cuffs getting caught on my wrists. You caught my wrist as I flailed about, attempting to free myself from the bedeviled shirt. Slowly, you slid your tiny fingers between the fabric and pulled, sending the offending buttons aloft. We laughed at the "tick, tick, tick" of the buttons as they scattered across the floor. We listened to the last button, as it rolled across the floor, settling, finally, into it’s final rotations before coming to rest.

Finally, we were both naked. I was on top of you, my cock ready and wanting. Your legs spread slightly, allowing me to progress. "I'm sorry", I whispered, still fumbling to gain entrance to your secrets.

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:06 AM

He holds her shoulders down against the bed as He climbs atop of her. As her mind races to try to figure out what will happen His hand finds her cheek with great force knocking the wind out of her, her eyes quickly fill with tears as He asks "Why does My slave have clothes on?". There is no time to answer as He pulls off her denim jeans that she wore in hopes He would like the way they make her ass look. He reaches for the night stand and grabs His pocket knife, He always seems to have it near. she holds her breath as He runs the tip over the delicate flesh of her neck a single tear falls from her eye . In His hands he holds the collar of her blouse, with one solid movement he cuts it open to reveal her chest He then grabs the center of her bra with the same type of motion it to has been cut from her. He basically shoves her from her back to her stomach tells her she knows how she should be in front of Him. she quickly raises her ass in the air and spreads her arms out against the bed her cheek pressed firmly against the bedding as He with out any warning shoves two fingers deep into her ass. she lurches forward trying to escape the pain as He grabs her hair and pulls her back to where she should be. He continues to force His way deeper into her ass as she cries out in pain. He says " A slut doesn't have the right to complain shut up you whore.'" she tries to muffle her cries into the pillow just as she thinks she is able to handle it she feels it tear against her back she isn't sure what it is but she knows with out question it hurt and hurt bad. Just then she hears the clank of the buckle as Master's belt finding its way down onto her back again she grasps at the bedding her knuckles are white as she tries to hold it in , she can't hold it in any longer and it escapes her screams out. The second she does so His belt crashes down again atop her back she can feel the pain sore through her body. His hand grabs her hair until her head is as far back as it can possibly go He says to her " I thought I told you to shut up." her eyes close to escape the look of disappointment in His eyes. At that moment he rams the rest of His fist deep inside her ass she begs Him to stop " please Master, PLEASE i can't take any more. " With those words barely out of her mouth He then rips His hand out and looks at her and says " Fine I will stop". With that He gets up off the beds and leaves the room. her mind is soaring knowing that she didn't really want Him to stop she curls into a ball and softly cries to her self cursing herself for asking Him to stop. Not even a minute goes by when she hears Him cry out from the next room " Get off that bed stop crying and lay on the floor the way you have been taught to do." she wished there were times when He didn't know her so well as she quietly slips off the bed onto the floor she feel the coolness of the hard wood against the softness of her belly she slowly stretches her arms out the her sides as her legs spread out as well. her cheek is pressed firmly to the floor as the coolness of the air teases the wetness between her legs. her back is throbbing her hair a mess. she hears the familiar sound of His chair reclining in the den. she wonders to her self how long He will make her lay there. in her mind she goes over the memories they share together. The day He took her as His own , the branding, she thinks how that moment felt as she was down in her stomach just like the way she is laying no as she thinks back her eyes close. she remembers Him out on the deck surrounded by His friends , her memories relax her to the point she softly falls asleep. she wakes to find her self still on the floor she moves to get up and realizing she is unable to . her wrists and ankles have been bound as she struggles against them she sees it.

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:07 AM

THE LUCY DEGARA STORY

Lucy Degara was a very pretty 23-years old Filipina nanny in the busy metropolis of Hong Kong. She was quite a small girl standing only 5 ft. 1 in. in height and weighing about 110 lbs. She had long black hair, deep brown eyes, a nice little figure, pretty legs and small, pretty feet. Like so many of the Filipinas in Hong Kong, she was a lovely young woman with an outgoing personality and many friends, mostly among her the other nannies, her compatriots.

She had met Master Koto once or twice when he was at the Hong Kong home of her employer, Samuel Kee, to discuss business with him. He always seemed to be a kind and friendly man with a few nice little things to say to her. Lucy knew that he was from Japan, and that he used a Japanese name, but he was not Japanese. That was simply his adopted country.

On one occasion, she had run into Master Koto at the San Francisco Bar in Wanchai, which is, along with the Mermaid Bar nearby, a favorite hangout among the Filipina amahs (nannies) in Hong Kong. She had been nicely dressed on that occasion with a light brown sweater, a short beige skirt, stockings and pumps. She went up to him to say hello, as he was seated with several men who appeared Japanese, leaning against his left shoulder with her soft tummy. Master Koto absolutely adored the little round soft tummy that some girls had, while others had flatter abs. He was quite preoccupied that evening, though, and, although he sent over some drinks for Lucy and her friends, he did not talk to her again that night.

She had met Master Koto again at a Filipino community party in Aberdeen on the far side of Hong Kong island, the once quaint fishing port that had become the home town of my Hong Kong professionals. Although he danced with her a number of times, and even kissed her on top of the head as is his habit when he meets and hugs or dances with a smaller woman like her, he was quite taken with her friend and fellow amah, Linda Santos, a pretty 24-year old who was a little taller than her.

Several days after the party, Master Koto had sent flowers and chocolates to the home where Linda was employed. He meant it as a kind and friendly gesture. But Linda, knowing that he had a wife since he was married in America at that time, telephoned his wife in America and told her that her husband had been carousing in Hong Kong, that he had danced the whole evening with her and her friends, that he had sent her flowers and chocolates, and that he was seriously coming onto her. She did like the flowers, though, and the chocolates were delicious.

A few months later, Master Koto was again in Hong Kong and he intended to punish Linda severely for betraying him and his intentions as she had done. By this time, though, Linda had left her employer and was nowhere to be found. That was unacceptable and disappointing to him as he had already rented one of the soundproof

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:08 AM

THE MISAKI KATO STORY

Master Koto and his very good friend and mentor Master Yamato were seated in the dining room of the hotel overlooking the lobby having dinner. As the time passed, the older Master Yamato noticed that his friend was constantly looking down into the lobby.

“What are you looking at, Koto-san?” the older man inquired, “What is it that has your attention?”

“That young woman down there,” he said, “at the information desk. She’s very pretty. I’ve been watching her as she runs around down there doing her little errands in the lobby and talking with the other staff.”

The object of their attention was twenty-two year-old Misaki Kato, a hotel clerk who usually worked at the information desk in the lobby. She was about 5 ft 3 in tall, pretty with long black hair, nicely figured, always smiling and laughing, and energetic to a fault. Master Koto had particularly taken note of her very shapely legs and feet as she moved about the lobby.

“You’re quite right,” he said, “she is pretty.”

“We have completed our business here,” explained Master Koto, “and we’re not leaving until later in the day tomorrow. I want to tickle the piss out of her tonight. There has to be a way I can get her. I’ll talk to the manager.”

“Leave it with me,” said the elder Yamato, “I know the head of security in this hotel quite well and I can get him to help you. She’ll be in yours by eight o’clock.”

Master Yamato left after dinner to talk to his friend in the security office, while Master Koto ordered a glass of cognac and continued to watch the hotel clerk from his table on the mezzanine above the lobby.

“It’s all arranged,” the elder Yamato said as he returned to the table, “she is going to be drugged when she takes a drink and she will be taken up to one of the hotel rooms to recover. Here is the key to the room they’ll take her to. They said that the room is very nearly soundproof and the rooms on both sides of it are empty.

“Excellent, my friend,” Master Koto replied, “I will give her an evening of great laughter. Would you like to join me?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he said, “I really need to get some sleep tonight and there is one program on television that I very much want to see.”

“Thankyou, Yamato-san” Master Koto replied, “Have a good night.”

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:09 AM

The Pets Punishment

For it was a dreary evening, not much one would want to do but to lie in bed and just snuggle up under the covers. Listening to the radio with careless whispers playing on the station. All the while enjoying the serenity my mind was drifting in as the song plays to my soul. As I hear two sets of foot prints approaching down the hall realizing they stopped at my master’s room. Knowing one is my master’s but the other sounds of a female. As my mind stirs, the door opens. Master throwing another girl at me. “You are going to help me tonight my pet. This one just disappointed me to a degree that I believe she is not worth my punishment. I think she only deserves my pets to punish her. She is yours but I will sit and watch. For if you do not punish her you will be punished yourself.” As he goes to sit in the chair in the corner.
My mind starting to reel from the thought of this situation. I have so longed desired this moment only dreaming of being a female Dom, but now it is real. I get to be the mistress of the night to one of my master’s pets. As my mind races on where to start.
I grab her by her hair forcing her up against the post of the bed. “So you disobey the Master! My, what a shame. Only to be humiliated by his pet. I will make it a night you will soon not to forget! I will not speak to you, for you either move as my hands tell you too or you will face more punishment. I will not enjoy this but I will not be punished for your insubordination.” as I turn to start collecting what my mind conjures up for her. Grabbing the cuffs, I spin her around bringing each of her arms around the bedpost, kicking her legs apart so to see her ass better. I begin caressing her ass to warm her up for her lashes. Grabbing a riding crop, I lightly tease each cheek with a soft blow but finding it not in the best of interest for me to use on such beautiful flesh. I then decided to grab the belt. It has a nice thickness and runs an inch and a half long in width. My hand sends it thru the air for it to land hard on her bare flesh leaving a nice pink mark. I know she is not to be spared as I strike again. Blow after blow until her eyes weld the tears as the marks achieve a beautiful burning red on her ass. Burning hot to the touch as I grab her ass cheek and squeeze feeling the welts under my hand as I caress her bottom.
I un cuff her grabbing her by the hair forcing her down onto the bed lying on her stomach as I grab for the paddle now to sting her ass once more with more blows to such a red fanny. How beautiful it was and knew that she will be squirming for a while if she should have to sit on her ass. As her tears flowed steady, I could see the wetness dripping from her wet cunt from such a punishment. However, I still had more in store for her I was not finished. For I was going to make her remember her place for the master next time.
Grabbing her up I cuffed her hands behind her back forcing her to kneel in front of master. Master smiling at me curious but was enjoying the site from earlier. I look at master and he nods knowing what my eyes were saying as I bent down and unbuckled his pants so that his cock would stand out.
Grabbing a rope, I tied her beasts up so the nipples would swell and harden as they turn color. Placing clamps on each nipple as I pull and tease them to erectness. The clamps close as her breath gasps and the tears roll again from the biting clamps pulling on the chain between the two I placed one small but yet effective weight. Making the weight sway between her breasts. She was my toy and a delight she was. Grabbing her hair, I forced her mouth down on master’s cock being sure it was deep within her throat sucking

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:11 AM

CHAPTER 1

Nikki, Inga, and Carol had worked for the agency as intelligence interpreters for several years; we all agreed it was a monotonous job until one morning Nikki told us to look at the notice board. It advertised a vacancy for three intelligence interpreters to staff a small outpost in support of a drugs operation.
Nikki said “It would be nice if we all went together but I am going to apply anyway”. Inga and I looked at each other and I said “What have we got to lose, working here is boring me to tears lets apply”. Inga replied, “Aren't you both forgetting what the agency told us when we enlisted”? Nikki replied “We know the agency didn't like the idea of having to enlist women and if they had too the best place for us was behind a desk”. “They don’t trust us in the field and told these tales to frighten us so if I am accepted I'm off”. Inga and I looked at each other and I said, “That makes sense let’s all apply”.
We were interviewed together and reminded that if we were captured we would be treated as spies and they knew from previous experiences when women were interrogated they would experience worse treatment than men. While we were fresh and undamaged we would be stripped and raped many times before being subjected to humiliation and pain. What happened next would depend on who caught us but being young white girls we would most likely be sold as slaves. With this warning were we still prepared to accept the possibilities? Asking how likely this was we were told it was possible but since government soldiers were in the area the risk was low so we accepted.
Our base was in two parts; one held the equipment, the other our work desks and living quarters. It was just as boring as the work we were doing home, with little home comforts wished we had not left. For three weeks we sat in our hut sorting the information brought to us by the soldiers and field agents, then radioing the good stuff back home. One morning we heard gunfire and started to worry, nothing happened until two days later when there was more intense gunfire, heavier and closer, some of it hitting our equipment room. It went quiet, Nikki went next door to check for damage, our door burst open, but before I could turn I felt what I knew to be a gun at my neck.
Two voices shouted, “Hands on head and stand up”. As I stood I saw Inga also had a man behind her and feeling a hand at my waist it reached my chest both men said these are women let’s have some fun with them. Now they knew we had no weapons we were told to keep our hands on our heads and turn around. They both wore uniforms but I didn't think they were soldiers. As they came toward us I knew there was nothing gained by fighting them off and accepted the possibility of being raped. At that moment we heard Nikki cry out “Please don’t” then she screamed and the two men pushed us into the equipment room. We saw Nikki in a heap on the floor her hands on her head with two more men standing over her. Like our two men they also were wearing uniforms and carried automatic guns but not like those of soldiers.
They spoke with American accents and telling the first two men to go they told Nikki to stand up. I saw she had a cut on her face and her eye was closing up, then finding a cupboard with enough room they pushed the three of us inside. It was very quiet so we tried the door but they had fastened it somehow. As Inga asked what we thought would happen Nikki said, “These people must be part of the drug suppliers”. “What they do to us will depend on who they are”, “If they are just thugs they will rape us, tie us up then tell the others where we are”. “f they are more intelligent they will take us to their base to find out what we are doing and what we know”. “One thing I do know, after me kicking that little bastard he is going to rape me before doing anything else to us”. How right she was, it wasn’t long before the two men who had punched Nikki let us out, tied the wrists of Inga and me and told us to sit on the floor to watch the show. One of the men held Nikki’s hands behind her back, the shorter man punched her in the stomach, and the other then punched her in the back. She fell gasping to the floor then the short man kicked her and said “Stand up bitch and drop your skirt”

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:12 AM

Story

i am a student at a local college in Baltimore Maryland. my family is quite large, with a total of total of 7 children of which i am the middle child. i have always been extremely sexual and extremely attractive. i had sex for the first time at the age of 13, and have had many women since. i am of average height, a dark coloration, and am extremely athletic and build. A very satisfying body for satisfying carnal pleasures. Suffice it to say, things had gotten a little boring. Quite by chance i stumbled across the world of bdsm. i knew immediately that such a practice would revitalize my sex life. i became very intrigued by the thought of being a slave, of giving up control of my self to another. i devoured the works of George Pichard, and discovered i am more than a little masochistic by getting a hardon more strong than any i have ever had. i wanted to be put in that position, totally and completely dehumanized. i wanted to be denied clothing, food, and comfort, and subjected to torments and suffering at the whim of someone else. i began to search for someone on various websites who could possibly provide such in my free time. i was never able to find one who was willing to treat me hard enough. Finally, one evening, as i was checking my e-mail, i finally found what i was looking for. The message was from Master X. It read as follows: “slave, I am serious and can and will provide you with what you want. Under my care, you will be kept nude and chained at all times, denied orgasm, abused, humiliated, deprived, dehumanized, and otherwise suffer my whims. If you are serious, contact me.” i immediately contacted Master X to assure him i was serious. i had a summer vacation coming up, and offered to give myself to him totally for that time. i would tell my family i was going on a hiking trip across Mongolia, which i had in fact been planning, and so would be out of reach. Not much of a worry for them. 7 kids are a handful. Master X gave me very clear instructions. i was to take a cab to a local beach, wearing nothing but a blue bathing suit and carrying no more money than the fare. Upon arrival, i would go to the patch of sand right next to the dumpsters, and kneel. i would be picked up from there. Finally the day arrived. i followed Master X’s instructions to the letter. Wearing nothing but the blue bathing suit, i took a cab to the appointed beach, and near the dumpstars, i kneeled in the dirt and waited. After about 15 minutes of staring intently at every passerby, and receiving some odd looks myself, a young woman began coming my way. She was wearing only a pink bikini, and was strickingly beautiful. Blond hairr, soft cherry lips, coupled with a lithe and full breasted body. Around her neck was what looked like a silver choker. Coming straight up to my kneeling form, she spoke in a loud voice “slave! i am slave veronica, Master X’s other slave. i am here to take you to the Master. Stay quite and follow me!” With that, she turned, and began to walk the other way. I jumped up to follow. We passed through the parking lot, which had me yelping with pain at the contact of burning concrete to my barefeet. veronica, also barefoot, seemed unfazed. i also noticed certain bumps and welts all over her body, signs no doubt of whipping. We passed through the parking lot, and entered the wooded park next to it. After about 10 minutes we arrived at a deserted clearing, with a van parked. Attached to the van was a smaller trailer like object, kind of like a uhaul toaway, but painted black. Pulling open the door of the van, veronica drew out a black duffle back and realeased its contents onto the ground. A variety of restraints and torture devices fell out. “Strip slave.,” veronica shouted. i did as i was told. she picked my trunks, and

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:13 AM

Kneel, Nadu head high, eyes down, knees spread wide, hands on thighs.
Bracelets: Placing hands behind the back ready to be bound
Crawl: On all fours, palms to elbows are flat on floor, ass in the air.
Table: On fours, back smooth and level.
Karta or Slaver’s Kiss: Knees wide, breasts and forehead against the floor, arms.
SULA-Ki or Slut: On back, legs are spread wide open, hips up off the floor.

She wasn’t going to be late this time, so she decided to go early and go shopping at the nearby mall, before her next appointment. That way, she wouldn’t get caught by the train. As time approached, she removed her under things in one of the changing booths. After all she couldn’t go shopping without being dressed properly.
She arrived on time and rang the bell. When the door opened, to her relief, he motioned her inside. She removed her dress and he hung it in the closet. He walked around her twice.
“Nadu” he called out. She immediately dropped into the position, then the others as he fired them at her one after another. He did make her hold the Karta and Sula-Ki positions for two minute each time they were issued. Each time, the exposure of the position, increase her arousal. Throughout this she heard small moans. These apartments must have really thin walls, she thought with some concern.
Finally, he ordered her to the crawl position, and then turned and headed for the living room. She followed, ass high, and head down.
She was fully into the room before he stepped aside and with a couple of more ‘steps’ she lifted her head. And gasped, blushed, and looked for a place to hide.
There was another man sitting in the Trainer’s chair. And a much younger woman sat spread on the couch, masturbating.
She turned to stare in panic at the Trainer. He merely turned is eyes to the man in his chair and nodded. She turned too.
“Sula-Ki!”
It didn’t come from her Trainer. IT CAME FROM THE MAN. Nooooooo. She turned to the Trainer again, but he was looking at the man. She silently begged for him to turn. It didn’t happen.
“SULA-KI !!”
Her head snapped around at the repeated command. Oh god. She couldn’t, wouldn’t. Never. But she knew she had no choice. She had agreed to this. How could she ever have done that. But as she took the first crawling steps to the place before the man, she realized she was growing wet.
With each movement of her arms and legs, her blush deepened, and her sex moistened. By the time she was in position, spread rudely before him, her face burned and her sex oozed.
“Masturbate, slut.” The voice again. Without thought her hands reached for her cunt. Moans filled the room for long minutes. Stereo sluts in need. Then the orgasms started. Not simultaneous, but one bringing on the other. Both fell back consumed by the experience.

“Nadu.”

Rabbit1

12-25-2005, 11:14 AM

Training the Intern
By dataBurst

Jim looked over at his office clock and saw that it was already almost 5pm. By now, most of his co-workers would have slipped out early. It was not the busy season at the publishing company at which he worked, and people took advantage of the lull where they could.

There was a knock on the doorway of his open door. "I'm leaving now, Jim." It was Maureen, Jim's boss with whom he had a positive but fairly limited relationship. Maureen, who was a few years older than Jim, had worked hard to move up in the company. "Have a nice weekend. And please stop by and see Sheila on your way out. She says she has something to ask you about."

"Sure, Maureen. Have a nice weekend," Jim said, waving as Maureen headed out.

He slowly picked up his sport jacket from the back of his office chair and began to gather his things to pack in his briefcase before heading home for the weekend. Since his divorce, he was a little less hurried when it came to getting home for the weekend. He had only the empty apartment to get back to, with only take out food and a rented movie to keep him company.

Before he could get out of his office, Sheila popped her head in through the door, smiling, and asked whether he could stop by her desk to help her with something. Jim, always a gentle and well-liked member of the staff returned the friendly smile and said he'd be glad to and would be along in just a moment, not mentioning that he'd already been asked. He finished packing up before turning off his own office lights and, when he saw that the common area outside his office was already deserted, shut the lights there as well before walking down the hall to Sheila's desk in the sales area.

Jim guessed that Sheila was in her mid-30s, several years younger than himself. She was a graceful, attractive woman with short brown hair and a million dollar smile. Jim had thought about asking her to dinner more than once, but ultimately felt it to be still a little too soon since his unpleasant divorce. As he approached her desk, he again noticed her confident smile, artful makeup and tasteful silver loop earrings. As usual, she looked great.

"Hi Jim, thanks for agreeing to come."

"Sure, always glad to help," he said, eyes adjusting to see that they were not alone. Leaning on Sheila's desk, and facing Sheila, was a very attractive young woman with dark hair and eyes and slightly dark skin. Her full lips and large eyes made her look striking, in an exotic way. She was tiny, both in height and weight. Nevertheless, he guessed she was about 19 or 20. He recognized her by sight, but didn't know her name. She was glancing downward, not meeting Jim's eyes.

"This is Malaya, Jim. She's been interning with us here in my group."

Jim smiled and nodded her way, but then noticed that she still hadn't looked up, so he said, "I'm pleased to meet you, Malaya."

Malaya looked up quickly and then back down at the floor, as if she was scared of Jim. Sheila seemed almost to be suppressing a laugh.

Looking over at Sheila again, Jim noticed for the first time that her top was unbuttoned to almost midway down her torso, showing quite a lot of skin. His eyes were fixed there, and he felt the excitement like a spark reaching his groin. He couldn't tell if she was wearing a bra, but assumed she was. Still, it felt like he could almost see far enough to find out. When he looked up, he saw that Sheila had caught him but rather than making any move to cover up or change angles, her confident smile turned a little more flirty.

He looked back at Malaya, only to see her stealing glances at his crotch.

"What was it that you needed?" he asked, more to Sheila than to Malaya. He noticed that his voice was cracking a bit, which caused him some mild embarrassment.

"You've always seemed like such a nice guy, Jim," Sheila said, as she stood up and took a step towards him, "and you've always been gentlemanly and considerate to me and the other ladies at this company. I felt confident that you were the right guy to discretely help Malaya and me. You see, Malaya is engaged and will be married very soon. She's a virgin and has no real experience with men. I promised to help her to get a bit so that the wedding night isn't something she fears. But you have to promise to keep this just among us."

"Oh!" Malaya gasped and covered her face with her hands, clearly embarassed.

Jim's mind was racing. He was confused and aroused at once. "I'm sorry. What is it you're asking me?"

"Take out your cock, Jim. I've noticed a nice bulge in your pants before, and it looks like you've got a dandy right now. Let us see it. Let Malaya see it and get a good look. She hasn't seen a real man's dick and it's about time she did."