She closed the baize-covered sound-proof door gently, listening to the steady drone of his voice over the driving beat of the tape. She felt the return of a flood of excitement & recollection. She moved quietly on the strip of black carpet to her ‘throne’ on the raised dais, & sat – looking down at the naked man sitting upright on his ‘training chair’ in front of her – eyes shut, as he chanted his litany of subservience. Read more…
“MADAME MARLA’S LINGERIE STORE” said the large illuminated sign hanging over the store front. Brett thought this was worth a look. He liked lingerie on his girlfriend, so why not? He liked to buy her new things to wear every so often to turn him on. And she was only too happy to oblige! This was a new store to him and he hoped to find lots of new tantalizing, and if he was really lucky tasty, treasures there! Read more…
One day on the way home from work, I sat in the bus, dozing off. It had been a rough day, and a cloudy, windy one as well. I have an hour ride on the bus, so there’s plenty of time for a nap. And sitting there in the heat I closed my eyes and felt my breathing getting heavier and heavier.
And I fell into a dream. A spectacular scenario from probably 4000 years ago. Yet it was right now in the dream. I was standing in a kind of hall. There were pillars on both sides. And the hallway between the pillars was about 12 feet wide. There was space beyond this hallway, but I didn’t notice how far it extended. Read more…
Monica was beautiful—all blond hair, full lips, round and lush breasts, voluptuous hips. Long, lean tanned legs finished the picture. Her eyes were a deep blue and her complexion was clear and fair. She was dressed in a short black skirt, white silk blouse and very-high-heeled black patent leather pumps enveloped her lovely, erotic feet. She wore small simple gold earrings and a matching gold chain as jewelry—but suspended from the delicate chain was a large, multifaceted aquamarine crystal which matched her lovely eyes. Read more…
As usual, my ordinary wife and I were on our own sides of the bed. My slave cock and balls were consumed by such lust that fondling and playing with them were a definite must. As my big hand reached the stroke of twelve, i was summoned by a Siren voice that could not be ignored: “slave . . . slave . . . look upon Me, slave boy. . . .”
As i was opening my eyes, i was thinking in fright, “Shhh, ‘You’ll wake my wife and then there will be a big fight!’ “
To this came a silky reply: “Don’t worry, you slut, she won’t hear My voice. I read and project thoughts so don’t talk, slave boy.” Read more…
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