To all who submitted stories

[Rabbit1]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

Published see it Here--- http://www.bdsmlibrary.com/stories/s...p?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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

“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]

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.