To all who submitted stories

[Rabbit1]

In the past----some information evidently got lost in the transfer of ownership of the site---I have over a hundred files of new and story updates with no way of knowing for sure who they belong to---I tried to match them up but have published the wrong update to the wrong story because of almost alike story titles---so I will not do that again --as it is really hard to straighten out----So if you have submitted a story and it has been over a week or two and you have not seen it published or updated ---Please resubmit it----I will have duplicate files but at least it will generate the nessary paperwork I need to publish it.

I am not trying to blame anyone for this ----nor do I think anyone else should ----Shit happen and it did ---now lets straighten it out and move on


Thanks

Rabbit1

[Rabbit1]

bump

[Rabbit1]

no one want to claim these stories that I have waiting to be published?

[Dick the Slaver]

no one want to claim these stories that I have waiting to be published?

Give them time Rabbit. I presume that they may not realize that you are posting stories on a daily basis.

[Rabbit1]

Give them time Rabbit. I presume that they may not realize that you are posting stories on a daily basis.

I have posted all the back stories I can---that I have identifing paperwork on --I have posted all stories except what is submitted today

[Rabbit1]

Ok I am going to start posting the stories I have here on this thread---I will number them---If it is your story and you would like it published please contact me ---and I will tell you what I need for that particular story to be able to publish it or update it.

[Rabbit1]

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]

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.


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[Rabbit1]

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."


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[Rabbit1]

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.

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[Rabbit1]

'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]

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.”

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[Rabbit1]

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


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[Rabbit1]

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]

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


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[Rabbit1]

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.



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[Rabbit1]

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.


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[Rabbit1]

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.

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[Rabbit1]

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.

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[Rabbit1]

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.


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[Rabbit1]

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]

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]

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]

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]

Full story now published ----- http://www.bdsmlibrary.com/stories/c...hapterid=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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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