These Are The Dirtiest Bondage Stories You Are Ever Going To Read

1.

“Claire was tied face down to the bed, a big red ball gag in her mouth and coarse ropes binding her wrists and ankles to the bedposts, keeping her in place. She was panting heavily, nervous, her small breasts heaving. She’d found this place online in one of the dark chatrooms where nobody used their real names.

She’d gone down three alleyways and entered a seedy place, where there were thick doors and sounds of pleasure coming through. Girls screaming in ecstasy, flesh slapping against flesh, men groaning. She’d signed a few forms and given her consent, then put on a pair of long black stockings, black high heels, a black collar, and had allowed herself to be tied down to this disgusting, small bed.

She was wondered how long it would be, and when the door opened, she felt her heart beat even faster. She couldn’t see the men enter the room but she could hear them. She felt their hands caress her body and begin to pull down her thin black panties to expose her tight pink pussy.

She felt their fingers probe her and her hands pulled down instinctively. The ropes were too strong and she couldn’t move as she was being played with, no matter how fast, or how deep they went. She felt the bed shake as a man climbed on, and she began to breathe heavily as he placed his hands down next to her head and something, something poked against her pussy.

Without warning he thrust in and she gasped in pleasure around her gag. The thick cock was so deep inside her that she thought that she’d scream! She tried to control her moans as the man used her like a sex doll, pounding her and grabbing onto her hair for leverage. She felt him speed up, felt him reach his climax, and she groaned as he came inside her.

He was panting heavily, and so was Claire, but for her it wasn’t even nearly over. The man climbed off the bed and another one climbed on next, thrusting his cock deep inside her.

For hours she felt herself get fucked by different men, used like a tissue to catch their cum. She came over and over again, screaming into her ball gag, loving the feeling of the cocks plowing her. By the end of the day when the man came in to untie her she could barely move her legs. She was dripping out of her cunt, semen staining the streets.

The ropes had left red marks around her wrists and ankles. Still, she knew that she’d be back tomorrow. As she left the room she saw other women leaving the rooms nearby, smiles plastered across their faces. They were walking bow-legged and their high heels were wobbling on the floor.

Claire was one of them now.” — Peskykin

2.

“A girl—no, now woman, unequivocally, though she’s still a girl to me, with some of those endearing habits left over from childhood that most of us, the unlucky ones, lose when we (supposedly) mature: in her case, biting her lip and casting her beautiful dark eyes to the ceiling as she considered a posed question—a woman kneels before me, her hands bound, her pert breasts thrust forward, the position revealing the contours of her ribs.

“Sir,” she whispers. “Do whatever you want to me.” I reach out and run my hand through her hair, black as pitch, dropping down to one breast as I pinch her nipple and begin to undo my belt.

How did we get here? Let me back up.

I’m a PhD candidate in comparative literature a top university, one which was in the news last year for student protests, and which continues to be in the news on occasion. During the tumult of the protests, many of my colleagues noted class attendance dwindling—not that they particularly minded, since most of us are farther left than even our most sincere little radicals.

My class, for seniors writing theses, remained well attended, however. My secret was the same secret that led to record setting enrollments in previous years: sex. Any seniors who wanted to write theses on sexuality in literature? Sign up for the “Literature and Sexuality Senior Colloquium.” Genius.

If you’ve never read The Story of O—well, I recommend it. For academics, it’s easy to teach because students love to talk about it. And for Priya, my best student, it seemed to spark an interest she didn’t realize she had.

“I was thinking of changing my thesis topic,” she told me one afternoon after class, over coffee, while we discussed her initial proposal, which focused on oral histories of sex workers. “Something…”

And then she paused, bit her lip. She’s a petite girl, Indian-American, majoring in English and Biology, the latter to keep the possibility of med school alive.

“Something…” I offered.

“About BDSM. I really liked The Story of O. And I was thinking…” Here, she laid out a fairly clever thesis topic, reading female empowerment into narratives of sexual submission. I OK’d the project and she was off.

It happened so gradually, I barely noticed it. I was attracted to her, naturally, but I was attracted to many of my female students and so the noise blocked it out—like most red-blooded male academics, I’d gotten used to being around attractive, smart, driven young people revealing their vulnerabilities. I began meeting with Priya bi-weekly, and then weekly, chatting about her paper, about her other classes, about her on-campus activism. At one point, I noticed my hand on hers. She was talking excitedly about a protest. I delicately removed my hand and she glanced down at it, and then at me—I couldn’t read the look on her face.

“Sorry,” I offered lamely.

“No, it’s okay,” she replied, a little too quickly.

“You know it’s not.”

“But it feels okay.”

“And yet, it’s still not.”

Another time, I forget exactly when, I mentioned something that clued her in to the fact that I had personal BDSM experience—something about after-care, something that set her eyes shining.

“So, you’ve… Done, like, scenes and stuff?”

“Priya, we shouldn’t be talking about this.”

“But it’s what my thesis is about. You have to talk to me about it.”

“But not about my own, personal…” I paused. Digging myself into a hole. “Interests.”

She grinned. “Are you a dom or a sub or a switch? You’re a dom. I can tell.”

I shut that conversation down pretty fast too. She wrote her thesis, graduated summa, and I was proud of her.

It was a month or two before I saw her again: I was riding my bike to the library, when I like to camp out in the summer months to work, since my apartment has no air conditioning, when I saw her in smart business dress, leading a group of prospective students on a tour. We waved and later, I saw the same group again in the library. She flashed another smile my way and, an hour later, found me again. Sans prospies.

It turned out, she had a job at the admissions office. A full time job. Would I like to get lunch with her? I would.

Over lunch, our hands found each other again. She invited me over for dinner that evening and I took her up on the offer.

In the dark of her bedroom after our first night together, her curled up in the crook of my arm, her breath ragged after our fucking, she asked me to be her dom.

“I’ve just read so much about it, and it sounds like… What I’ve always wanted,” she whispered. “And I feel like what I’ve always wanted—it’s been someone like you.”

I was quiet for a while. Of course, I wanted it. Who wouldn’t? Priya was gorgeous. She was a joy to be around, sweet and considerate, with a sassy edge that came with intimacy. She was smart as a whip, able to see through my bullshit in class when none of the other students could, giving me a raised eyebrow: our secret signal.

“Why don’t we ease into it, try a few things, and see if you like it,” I finally answered, whispering huskily into her ear as my hand ran down her smooth belly.

“Yes… What should I call you?”

“Sir, for now. Yellow for slow down, red for stop—does that work for you?”

“That works,” she said, eagerly. I ordered her out of bed, told her to turn on the lights. She obeyed immediately.

“Good girl. Squat down. Touch yourself.”

Again, she obeyed: lowering herself into the awkward position, she slid a hand down and began to rub her bare pussy, spreading her dark lips open to reveal her pinkness.

“Like this, Sir?”

“Good. And don’t you dare think you’re going to cum any time soon.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I watched her for a minute, our eyes locked as she touched herself, gasping and whimpering softly. I had already made her cum once and I was surprised at how fast she orgasmed.

“Touch your tits,” I ordered.

She nodded, biting her lip, and ran a hand up to her breasts, stroking them softly.

“Not like that. Grope them.”

She obeyed, digging her fingers into her flesh, whimpering. She was a natural, tugging at her brown nipples, shuddering in pain and pleasure.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes, Sir. I’ve always liked it… rough.”

“How rough?”

She didn’t answer for a second, moaning.

“How rough?” I demanded again.

“Really rough,” she choked out.

“Good,” I replied. I strode over to her, laying my hands on her for the first time since we had begun. I took her by the hair, pulling hard.

“Like this?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What do you like to be called?”

“Anything, Sir. Something dirty.”

Gripping her hard by the hair, forcing her head back, almost causing her to lose her balance, I lowered my lips to her ear.

“You never fooled me, Priya. I always knew you wanted to be my slut.”

She let out a cry and began to shudder. I knew she was cumming. I slid my fingers around her throat, letting them rest there and putting only a small amount of pressure on her—just enough to let her know that I was in charge, but not so much that she wouldn’t be able to use her safe words. I held her face looking at mine as she came, her pretty features contorting in ecstasy.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she whimpered pathetically as she finished.

“On the bed. Hands and knees.”

She obeyed as I went to my jeans, and slid my belt out of the loops. I heard her breathing, ragged and hungry as I approached her leaking body, the scent of her pussy heavy in the air as I ran my belt over her thighs and up to her plump little ass.

“Is this a red or a yellow for you, do you think?” I asked.

“No. No, I don’t think so, Sir.”

“Good. Because tears aren’t a safe word.”

“I know, Sir.”

“Count for me.”

I struck her rear softly, hearing the moans of disappointment, before amping up my blows—not to the point that I would leave lasting welts, but enough that her butt visibly swelled under the rain of slaps. She cried out with each blow, adding in the number at the end. We stopped at sixteen—eight on each cheek. She was trembling very slightly as I took hold of her hips.

“How was that?”

“Wonderful, Sir.”

She groaned as I slid my cock into her for the second time that night. Whereas before, I had looked her in the eyes and kissed her slowly as we fucked, now I began to pound her, grabbing her by the hair from behind as I rode her. She squealed; I knew she had roommates and our first time, she had even asked me to be quiet so they wouldn’t hear us. Now, there was no way they couldn’t hear.

Finally, I pulled out of her. I pulled her by her hair back onto the floor, flinging her like a rag doll as I pressed my slick cock between her lips, forcing her to taste her own juices as she began to obediently suck me. With a groan, I came in her mouth and she swallowed it with a smile.

Afterwards, I held her close—after-care, there it was again—and she curled herself up against my chest, burying her face in my chest hair.

“I loved that,” she whispered. “It felt like scratching an itch I’ve had for a long time.”

So, that summer, we continued to see one another. We continued our play sessions, nearly every single day, and at the end of the summer, she had accepted a job across the country working at a start up. We broke up then, so to speak—it was her first real job out of college, in a new city, and I had no illusions about the new people and experiences she might want to meet and have. But we still keep in touch—she seems to have a boyfriend now, and from the way she looks at him—in photographs, on late nights when I’m facebook stalking her—I know what they’re doing…” — [deleted]

3.

 I was planning on going to a rope social. For those into BDSM, this is a meetup for people getting into bondage, and the host was going to be teaching techniques. I’m new to BDSM, and was looking forward to learning the ropes.

At least, that was how it started…

It wasn’t long before people were playing a little more than planned. Vibrators were being handed out, people were getting tied in knots, chained in cuffs, suspended a rig, taped up and teased, and much more! At the request of others, I got tied up, blindfolded, and teased with a vibrator. Outside my clothing, unfortunately.

Then one girl volunteered to be wrapped up with plastic wrap, like another girl already had, and I asked to help strip her. She was shy, and not much of an exhibitionist, so it took some convincing. But a couple minutes later, I had her clothes, and she was standing nude in front of a dozen people.

(I wish I had pictures from this part of the party.)

She was then wrapped with plastic wrap, and people took turns touching her with ice cubes, paddling her backside, or just generally teasing her. I was even a little concerned, because I discovered that she had only had one leg, so we were tying up and abusing a poor little handicapped girl.

Yet when someone bet she couldn’t get free, she proved them wrong by ripping the plastic wrap off in less than a minute, which shocked me. (And not much would have shocked me at this point!) She asked for her clothes back, but I refused to hand over her panties. So instead she put on her shirt, and an apron she found in the kitchen.

The thing about an apron is it doesn’t cover the back very well. Or at all. So as we watched the other partygoers move on to the next victim, I slipped next to her, and caressed her back and ass. For ease of access, I then got on my knees beside her, and we both quietly watched the festivities. Meanwhile I worked my way between her legs, playing with her labia, and feeling her wetness which was now almost dripping. Soon I slipped a couple fingers inside of her, while playing with her clit. Wetness ran down my hand. As we watched in silence, nobody could see precisely what I was doing behind her apron, but most people had an idea…

To keep this short, let’s just say the social took a few hours. Eventually I gave her her panties back, and (to my dismay) she got dressed. People were getting tied up, spanked, whipped, and every vibrator had its batteries fully depleted. I even got paddled for a bit, which was a first, and I learned it does nothing for me. But you can bet all of the girls enjoyed getting paddled and spanked! It was a BDSM social, after all.

When things wound down, many people stayed the night. The girl who I’d played with earlier agreed to share the last available bed, which was actually a fold-out couch in the middle of the living room. We climbed into it, I stripped down to my underwear, and she took off her leg and pants. Then as people sleepily walked past to get water or whatever from the attached kitchen, we spooned under the covers. (Quick side note: I love spooning. So much body contact!) She still wearing her panties, but my hand slipped underneath them soon enough. Touching her and playing with her. When it seemed people were finished getting their midnight snacks, I reached down and pulled off her underwear.

Rock hard, I pushed into her dripping pussy, and we quietly fucked. I held her tight as I thrust inside of her, silently hoping nobody would see what we were doing under the covers in the dimness. It didn’t take too long before she climaxed. I’d been holding off, and followed shortly after, pulsating in her pussy and filling her with my cum.

She slipped her underwear back on just in time for the front door to open. A friend of hers, who was too late for the social, walked in. She jumped out of bed, and hopped on her one leg over to him, too excited to put on her prosthetic. Others came to see who came in. Meanwhile, I just hoped nobody would ask why I wasn’t taking the covers off, or what we’d just been doing.

After everyone went to bed and things died down again, she fell asleep in my arms, quite happy that the room was cool enough to rely on each other to stay warm.

Some time later, in the pitch black of night, I woke up hard as stone. You know the feeling; you’re suddenly awake, erect, and horny as hell. She was still asleep in my arms, unmoving. Should I take advantage of this situation? Take advantage of a submissive, sleeping, helpless, and even handicapped girl? Yes, I think I will. I slid my hand back under her panties, and sure enough, she was still moist between her pussy lips. I rubbed her softly, and after a bit she responded with soft moans and gentle rocking. Unsure if she was fully awake, but knowing she was responding favorably, I pulled the covers off of us. I climbed on top of her, uncaring if someone walked in at this point. Pointing my erection at her dripping pussy, I lowered myself onto her. She moaned, and reached up to hold me. For the second time that night, we became one. Greedy, it wasn’t too long before I came in her again. I helped her get her panties back on, and we fell asleep together again.

The next morning, as people filed into the room, we didn’t let on what happened. Though people suspected, considering the sleeping arrangement. A few hours later we both left, and didn’t see each other for about a week.” — hungfun

4.

“It’s a Friday night. It’s me (22F), my boyfriend Aaron (23M), and his best friend Jack (27M). We are, as usual, sitting in my new apartment, enjoying some Sailor Jerry’s and Netflix. We are tipsy and excited to finally have just the three of us in the same room; we’ve spent a lot of time with other friends lately, so the trio-only night had been a long time coming.

At this point, all three of us had grown pretty close as friends. “Very” close. A few months back, I’d treated Jack to a few blowjobs, one really good fuck, and a lot of teasing. It started out as requests from my boyfriend, who really gets off to the thought of me with other men. But I warmed up to the idea very, very quickly.

Though no more sex had happened at the request of both Jack and Aaron since then (“so no one feels left out”) we had never stopped being flirtatious. A particular memory was us at New Years, where Jack thoroughly beat me at a game of strip poker. Naked, I made sure to pose a bit, just to remind him of what he could still be having. He kept gloating about how he’d beaten me, “put me in my place.” Really, I should’ve seen the writing on the wall about what would eventually happen.

Anyways. Back to the present.

At some point during the night, I make a joke at the expense of Jack. Some insult about his taste in music, just trying to tease a reaction out of him. It works instantly.

“Don’t make me get my belt,” he says without missing a beat. His face gets so comically serious that I start laughing.

“I dare you,” I fire right back. Just to make a point I pull my red hair up away from my neck and show it off.

“I didn’t bring mine, actually, but if you have a spare…” He shrugs, his drink sloshing in one hand.

“I absolutely have one,” Aaron, my boyfriend, says, springing off the couch so quickly that both Jack and I burst out laughing even harder.

Aaron comes back with a studded black belt, swinging it like an idiot. He hands it to Jack, who gives it a few exaggerated cracks. We all laugh, ready to begin whatever comedy bit we think is about to come.

But then Jack leans over, wraps the belt around my neck, and pulls it so tight, so fast, I don’t have time to react.

“Holy shit,” Aaron whispers under his breath. He nearly drops his drink.

I gasp, my eyes instantly watering. Jack lets off the belt, wiggling his fingers underneath the part around my neck, giving me an inch or two to breathe.

“Too much?” he asks. It’s both concerned and a little mocking. I can hear the smile in his words, even though I can’t see it.

“I’m fine,” I say quickly. “I’m absolutely fine with this.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he says, and he pulses the belt a few more times. I realize that this has escalated past a joke. He’s not kidding. And he’s not taking his hand off the belt either. He’s actually doing this, right here, right now.

He sits down on my couch, pulling me along with him. But before I can reach where I was sitting, he points to the floor.

“Sit,” he says. “Where you belong.”

At this point, my brain has ceased proper function. Jack and Aaron are laughing at the look on my face. I had never actually experienced this level of kink before aside from tons of fantasizing, so now I’m struggling to make my brain work as Aaron and Jack continue their conversation like nothing happened as I sink down to the floor, right between Jacks legs.

After a few minutes, I am calm enough to take part in the conversation. Things seem almost unnervingly casual. Aaron is smiling so wide you’d think it was his birthday, which makes me even more horny. He’s getting off on just watching this.

At some point, I let out a huge yawn. Before I can even finish, Jack yanks hard on the belt.

“You getting too tired for this?” he asks.

“No,” I respond.

“Then don’t yawn.”

After this, every time I yawn, I’m treated with a sharp yank to my makeshift collar. The punishment aspect is delicious. I even start yawning deliberately every now and then just to feel him tug hard on my neck.

More rules come as the night goes on. Every time I make a joke at his expense, I get a few extra seconds without breath.

“I’m trying to be such a nice guy here,” he says, as I’m sputtering beneath him. I laugh, but it’s cut off by another tug.

“I need a cigarette,” Jack says. He stands up, pulls up on the belt, and has me stumble outside beside him on the porch. It’s twenty degrees, and I’m in a belly shirt and basketball pants. No coat, and even worse, no bra.

“It’s freezing!” I say, covering up my hardening nipples with my arms.

“You can deal with it for a minute,” he says, smiling and lighting his cigarette. “Be a good girl.”

I cross my arms and scowl. I realize that if I really wanted to, I could just slip the belt right off and be done with it. But Christ… it just feels so fucking good. My head is literally spinning at this point. Seeing stars. The whole shebang.

After a few minutes, he finally finishes his cigarette. I follow back inside, where Aaron is laid out on the love seat, reading on his phone. Before being prompted, I drop down to the floor, right at the spot where Jack was sitting previously. He sits, and I sidle myself between his legs, lying my head on his thigh, not speaking a word.

“Good girl,” he says, running a hand through my hair affectionately.

I’ve just been pet, I think to myself. Hell, I am officially a pet, at least for tonight.

The phone in my waistband starts buzzing. Aaron is texting me. “This is so fucking hot. Oh my god. Is this okay? Let me know.”

“I am so fine,” I text back. I’m pretty sure Jack sees it over my shoulder, because he pulls back on the belt just a little bit. I put the phone down immediately, and the tension lessens. So texts are a no, too. I’m okay with that.

A total of three hours goes by like this. Jack and Aaron having completely normal conversations, me trying my best to join in despite being very, very distracted. Little tugs here and there if I say something “inappropriate” or if my head lolls a little too much or, again, if I dare to yawn. Jack seems to be really enjoying himself. His power boner is in full force. Literally. I can see it through his jeans, and suddenly, I can’t stop staring at it.

Jack catches me staring.

The next thirty minutes become a slow crawl up to his dick. He pulls me a little closer, centimeter by centimeter, every minute or so. Pretty soon my face is laying directly on his crotch, me trying hard to keep still, only moving when he pulls me. I sit like than for another twenty, my face basically forced into his hardness, my breath going through his jeans. The tugs of the belt drag my face over his cock.

Eventually, I can’t help myself. I break. I start running my tongue across it, hoping he can feel it. By the way his hand curls into my hair and pushes me down into his crotch, I’m pretty sure he can.

Aaron is still sitting there, still as a statue, watching. I can’t see his face because of how dark it is in our living room, but I imagine he can see us just fine from his spot on the far couch. His breathing goes shallow when he hears the wet noises of my mouth kissing cock. He knows exactly what’s happening, or really, what’s about to happen.

Without warning Jack unzips his pants and pulls his cock out of his underwear. Greedily, like I’ve been begging for it for hours (which, really, I have) I wrap my mouth around it and take it straight down without bothering to tease. I’ve had enough teasing tonight.

What follows now is a forty minute blowjob starring me, officially the most patient girl in the world, now finally getting my payoff. The belt goes slack as I worship his cock, licking patterns up his shaft and sucking hard as the head of his dick hits the back of my throat. The alcohol that had burned my throat earlier makes it painful yet so satisfying as his cock reaches deep. He deep throats me over and over and over again. I’m starting to think I can’t breathe.

Then I realize, I literally can’t breathe. He has the belt pulled tight. His hips are now jack-knifing up into me, his dick pumping in and out as I messily try to keep up. This brutal face fucking keeps going and going, I lose track of how long I’ve been kneeling here, my mouth forced open by his dick.

He grabs me by my hair and forces himself down into me, as far as it will go, for one moment, two moments, three-

And then (no joke) I literally pass out.

Not just from the belt, but from the combination of it, the deep throating, the alcohol, and not having slept more than three hours over the past two days. It was nearly eight in the morning by this point, that’s how long this tease had been going all night, and all of a sudden it catches up with me so quickly that I couldn’t do anything but let go. I should probably be embarrassed about it, but for my first time doing something like this, I am happy I even lasted that long.

Anyways. A few seconds later, I come to with Jack cradling my head, and Aaron holding my hand. Both are equally worried, but after I assure them I was okay, they get right back to teasing the ever loving fuck out of me.

Jack tells me that he can’t wait to tell someone that he once had a girl blow him so hard she passed out.

“I took your breath away,” he said, running his fingers across my forehead. He unwraps the belt from my neck. I miss it already, but understandably, it seems like he’s calling it a night for my sake.

Aaron and I said goodnight and almost immediately passed out in our bedroom.

Of course, the morning after, Aaron fucked me hard as “repayment” for what I had done the night before. Hard, unforgiving, brutal. But I didn’t mind that too much. The next night, again, was a fuckfest between me and Jack. All in all, I had sex four times in two days. I still can’t walk right now.

I still can’t believe that night even happened. I cant believe that it might happen again. The belt is still sitting in the living room, right in plain sight.

Here’s hoping that Jack will notice it again, next time he’s here to see his new pet.” — katarinacalavera

5.

“I was your typical 18 year old American male. A very horny, somewhat lazy, curious to a fault, college student. I lived at home and had just started waiting tables at a restaurant, I took 4 classes at a local community college and played video games on the weekends and at night. I didn’t care much for school, and as your standard male I cared about money and sex. When I say sex, I mean bondage. Of course, I was still a virgin.

For as long as I can remember, I liked being tied up, and loved how women looked bound. When I was 8 I would play cops and robbers with my babysitter, and when she would “secure” me with pillow cases or scarves I was euphoric. So, when I was 13 and got cable internet and my own computer, I went berserk. Through high school I would, occasionally, get to tie up whatever girlfriend I had at the time. It was all amateur as amateur could get, and as soon as I was 17 (legal age) I started a quest to find a real woman, who truly knew what she was doing.

I joined any and every bdsm and fetish website I could find that had forums or dating aspects to it. This was before websites like okcupid, tinder, and fetlife were around, right at the advent of myspace.

So it was to my great surprise that a woman had taken a liking to me. Janet (Miss Janet, or Mistress Janet) was 47, lived in Philadelphia (a 3 hour drive from where I was), and had extreme expertise in traditional rope bondage. We met on a rope bondage forum that had a specific thread and portion of its website for meeting like minded individuals. The very early egg to online dating, looking back on it. She was very visible on the forum, and as a way to prove my masculinity and how kinky I was, I would send her pictures of myself. I had a cheap gag, she saw me gagged. I had a small, pink, buttplug. She saw my butt plugged. I had a plastic, locking chastity device. She made sure I locked myself up. I loved the attention. She loved my young innocence and my butt (a constant for all of my girlfriends, I have a plump, thick ass)

I was a bit skeptical. To this day it is still a rarity that a young male finds an actual domme female, right? But she alleviated my skepticism as a lot of her “work” was on websites, photographs from when she would go to bdsm parties and fetish conventions. I still wondered why this woman, who had plenty of partners, would take interest in a 17-year old boy who lived 200 miles away. I would find out the week after I turned 18.

I drove the 3 or so hours to Philadelphia to spend a weekend with a stranger. I was insatiably horny and struggled to not jerk off for the few days leading up to my visit. I was incredibly nervous, more for the drive than for actual visit, just hoping my 15 year old Acura would last the trip.

GPS didn’t exist, so with printed out directions from MapQuest I hit the road. The trip seemed like it took forever, but all told wasn’t bad at all. Miss Janet requested I arrive at 11 am sharp, so at 10:55 when I pulled into her parking garage my nerves were on high alert. Her apartment was in an old, refurbished brick building. The first floor of which were various shops, a deli, and a casual restaurant. She lived on the third floor in an open-floor plan, massive studio apartment. The windows let in light and let out views of a park and the city. It was enviable. (I still think about this apartment, it was absolutely fantastic).

I buzzed in, and was introduced to the world of BDSM right away.

“Who is it?” her voice echoed through the foyer, sharp, stern and a bit gravely.

“It’s Riley, I just parked” my voice cracked, my body shivered from arousal and fear.

“I’m sorry. Who are you looking for?” I panicked. Did I have the right apartment number? Her last name was printed right under the buzzer. For a split second, I feared this was all a ruse and some internet troll sent me to Philadelphia to hassle a random woman.

“I’m sorry, I may be mistaken” I blushed and felt a warmth of embarrassment running through my whole body. “Is this Janet?” I asked.

“I am Janet, yes. Only my friends and family and coworkers call me Janet. Why don’t you try again, sweetheart?” she was testing me, teasing me. Relief washed over me. At least I didn’t have the wrong god damn apartment.

I cleared my throat “Hello, Mistress Janet. It’s Riley, and I am excited to meet you finally. May I come up and serve you?” I’m sure I sounded ridiculous.

She didn’t reply, but simply buzzed me in. Two sets of stairs and a turn down the wooden floored hallway and I was in her apartment.

We exchanged pleasantries and talked about the drive down. I complimented her apartment, poked around for the views and sucked down the glass of water she offered up. There was a massive, 8 foot tall St. Andrew’s cross right by one of the massive windows. That caught my eye, and she noticed. “We can play with that this weekend”.

It finally settled in. It was 11 am on a friday and I was here until 11 pm Sunday. There was no other way to spend 60 hours than with pure debauchery.

Miss Janet wore dress slacks and a green, satin blouse that was unbuttoned just enough to show off her veiny, large breasts and ample cleavage. I had told her in one of our conversations how much I loved the traditional secretary look of blouses and satin. Surely she dressed this way intentionally. There were a few nudes of her on the forums, but it was nothing like the real thing. She was curvy, had a slight bit of chubbiness to her but it was, I surmised, just due to being nearly 50. She was a plain looking woman, but obviously pretty nonetheless. I never would have guessed she was a bondage loving Domme that tied up boys in her free time. My fantasies pictured the blonde, huge breasted, leather wearing woman as the one to bind me tight. Not a business professional in casual attire and glasses. I could imagine she was a stunner in her twenties. She mentioned she was working from home today so that “we can play sooner”. The laptop and various papers and manilla folders on the kitchen island were scattered about.

I told her the usuals, I was in school, worked part time. Nothing she didn’t already know, of course, but there isn’t a lot to talk about between a professional woman and a horny teenager. I assured her nobody was looking for me in my home town. She joked, teasing me that if nobody knew I was here, she could keep me as long as she wanted. I was okay with that. She sensed I was nervous and anxious to start, and to her credit she was absolutely right.

“So, Riley. I think we’ve had enough small talk. I want you to undress, and go pour me a glass of white wine. Place it on the coffee table, close your eyes, keep your hands behind your back. Don’t move. I’ll be right back”

“Yes, Mistress!” I had only been naked in front of a few girls, but the minute my clothes were off, my cock sprung to life.

The wine was poured once I found a glass, it wasn’t even noon yet and I was already naked and hard. I placed the wine down on a coaster, closed my eyes and stood silently until she returned. I felt like a piece of meat. It was, to say the least, everything I had ever hoped for.

The rope wrapped around my ankles, soft but strict. Another length was applied below my knees, then above my knees. Her hands worked around my body with skill and precision. When her hands began to work a thin fabric around my balls, I let out a low moan. She had a small chuckle at that, and quickly shut down my plea.

“Going to be a while before we get to that! You have to earn it like all obedient submissives” None the less she give my head a peck, her red lipstick left behind from her quick visit.

My balls had been totally objectified, bound tight and now formed into perfect eggs. She flicked them with her fingers, and giggled at my struggle.

Before she began to wrap my upper body in rope, I was to prop myself on a wooden table that she wheeled out from some sort of storage. The oak table was 4 feet off the ground and I struggled to sit upright on it. She bound my arms behind me, at the wrist and elbow, and laid me down on my chest upon the table. My cock, at this point, was as hard as it had ever been. I was positive it would burst. My whole body shook in arousal at the bondage I was being placed in, a nice, beautiful hogtie was completed when she ran a length of rope from my bound legs to my bound elbows, bending me up and removing any movement or struggle. As intense as it looked, it was somewhat comfortable, aside from my bound balls which were now being crushed by my weight.

The table had a 4 inch hole cut in the middle, and after Miss Janet adjusted my body, my cock and bound balls were slotted through the hole, and secured firmly in place.

“Okay Mr. Riley, let’s discuss your two safewords: if you say ‘daisy’ I will immediately stop what I am doing and ask you what’s wrong. If something is falling asleep, or you need an adjustment on a tie, use ‘daisy’. You may be the sub, but you’re safety and enjoyment is my number one priority. ‘Firetruck’ is if I push too far. The scene will immediately end, I will untie you and take off all gear and toys. Again, this is for safety. Understood?”

I nodded, I knew all about safewords, but hearing Miss Janet’s calming words and instructions was a nice intro to my weekend. She slipped a blindfold over my head, pumped my cock a few times with her firm grip, and gathered some toys.

She returned, marked by the sound of a bag hitting the wooden floor beneath her hogtied teen toy.

That’s when I became familiar with clothespins.” — YourNewFetish

6.

“It was late in the day by the time I had arrived at Eve’s home. Bathed in orange glow of sunset, the white walls of her term-time residence didn’t look too enticing. Squashed between two older homes like a train commuter in rush-hour, the one person home looked lonely.

The voicemail I received was brief. I couldn’t really hear most of it in the rumble of coffee shop atmosphere, but Eve sounded breathy. “Come to my place. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

I rapped on the weathered door, idly looking at a potted plant that had crept out and hung over its terracotta holdings. Probably left over from the last owner. Clunks reveal Eve, peeking through the gap playfully.

She was beautiful, and I would have given anything to sleep with her. Bobbed hair, shaven at the back sat prettily on her heart shaped face. More disheveled than usual, flecking her forehead erratically. Her eyes were sharp and demure, wing-tipped with an unsurprisingly lack of care. An old woolen jumper’s sleeve sat between her lips, stretching from her smiling bite. I wanted her badly, even on a lazy day like this.

“Busy night last night?” I joked, moving past her into the cramped hallway. My hip touched hers as I passed into the living room. Curtains still drawn, an old cup of tea leaving various rings on dog-eared uni work.

She laughed briefly. “Fuck you.” I plopped down in a hard armchair, slinging my rucksack down. I never felt as cool as Eve, so any joke that didn’t fall flat was a victory for me.

“Tea?” She half shouted, turning away from me and leaving the room. I spotted her old shorts hiking up her perfect, round bum.

“Yeah, thanks!” I respond. I’m left to errantly search the room. Posters from great bands way older than the two of us. Course books that look like they’d never been opened. A pair of handcuffs on the table. An empty vase.

A pair of handcuffs on the table.

I frowned, picking them up with two fingers. The second cuff dangles, not rocking- there’s a surprising firmness to the connecting middle. Usually I’d seen handcuffs with a chain; like in cop shows.

There were surprisingly thick.

Eve sauntered back in, placing two cups quickly onto the table. I was still holding the handcuffs with an unsettling curiosity. We made eye contact, and for the briefest of moments I felt my stomach flutter.

“What are these doing here?!” My voice turned high pitch at the end as I can’t help but giggle. “I guess it really was a busy night last night!”

I was expecting at least some shock, but Eve jumped into a recline on the sofa opposite, taking her phone out.

“Social last night, remember? Cops and robbers.” Her thumb lazily scrolled, before she threw the phone towards me. In a fluster I caught it.

In the dark of a smoky nightclub Eve was posed in a variety of photos. Wearing a navy blue dress that hugged her figure, skinny legs jutting out. The handcuffs from beforehand at her side. Jesus Christ, she was stunning.

Looking through myself, I saw her laughing, a series of snaps entailing her grabbing her friend and putting the cuffs on her. The two grin playfully as Eve grabs her arm and leans in for a kiss on the cheek. I wanted desperately to be the other girl.

I journeyed back to the top of the album- Hockey Social 13/02/16 and felt both jealousy and shame.

Eve’s face went solemn as I placed her phone on the table.

“Hey, I know you must feel a bit left out after what happened last week at practice…” She started, before I meekly interjected.

“I-I don’t care. It’s fine, really.” I flashed a weak smile and couldn’t even fool myself into thinking it earnest.

“It was really fucked up that they’d post the pictures online.”

I slumped into my armchair, withdrawing. My eyes fixated on a carpet stain as I felt my face burn.

Those images were still burnt into my head. Bending down on the tiled floor of a changing room, one hand pressed against my sex. My head fully encased in dirty pantyhose, details hidden by layers of black nylon. I’d been benched in the hockey game, and decided to go back into the changing rooms. The pile of dirty hosiery was just too enticing; one sniff lead to another, and before I knew it I was teasing out an orgasm.

I don’t know who took the picture. There was shock, laughter and a stampede of girls rushing out of the room. I could remember the complete shame and worry for hours afterwards, exploding into the worst case scenario when they were plastered all over social media.

“I’m not sure what went on but we’re still really good friends.” Eve spoke in such a way that it sounded like she was proving it to herself, hands cupped over her mug like protection.

I fiddled with the handcuffs in my hand erratically, looking up at the ceiling, the walls, anywhere but her eyes. My face reddened and felt like a furnace.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Really, it’s alright.” Hands still tracing over cold steel, turning in my hands.

“I think we should, Jen.” Peripheral vision told me Eve was staring -boring, more like- as she blew on her tea. I flashed a look her way, perfect lips puckering as they repelled hazy smoke.

“T-there’s nothing to really say, I-” Click. My wild fiddling stops as I felt the weight of metal on my wrists. With a tug I tried to get them off to no avail. This wasn’t helping such a delicate situation.

“How are these so sturdy? They don’t mess around with costume props anymore, do they?”

Eve put down her mug. “You’re changing the subject.”

“Eve, can this not wait?”

She pressed on. “Dirty laundry, does that turn you on?”

I frowned at her, stretching out my restricted arms. “Can you get these off please?”

She shrugged, nylon-clad feet dangling off the sofa’s arm. “Only if you tell me.”

I let too much time pass before I opened my mouth.

“I …I just wanted to see if I did.”

Eve paused, and I thought her questioning had ended. “And did you?”

I bit my lip and gave a frail nod.

“Right.” I couldn’t place her tone as she looked towards the door, strumming hair out of her eyes. “Come upstairs with me, I’ll get the keys.”

She sprang up, and I heard her stamping up the stairs. With a lurch I followed, hands uncomfortably in front of me. Up fuzzy stairs I went, trying to grab the hand rail with difficulty.

Eve had a handle on her closed bedroom door before turning around to face me. I wandered down the short lobby and she had a coy smile on her face.

“I felt bad about the whole thing, so I’ve got you a Valentines’ day surprise. We’re going to play something.”

I wearily sighed as her features flashed happily. “Eve, please just get these cuffs off me.”

She laughed teasingly. “Only if you win.”

“Ugh, what do I have to do?” I really wasn’t in the mood, surprisingly.

She looked like she was steeling herself to answer. “I know which girl at the match took the picture of you, and they’re in my bedroom. You guess who it is and you win! I’ll take those cuffs off you. ”

I backed off with caution, looking at Eve warily. What was she planning? I didn’t want to know which of my friends had betrayed me like that.

“You’re scaring me. Eve…”

She scratched her nose non-nonchalantly. “Leave, but I’m not taking those cuffs off unless you play.” She moved towards me, taking hold of both of my hands. I felt my stomach flutter again as I saw an earnest smile.

“Please, Jen. This will be good for you.”

I looked down, briefly nodding. “And what if I lose your game?”

Her hand felt the door handle again. “If you lose, you’re going to be put into the same situation as the culprit!”

She theatrically opened the door and my jaw dropped.

A figure covered almost head to toe in nude nylon writhed softly. She was lashed with tight pantyhose to a large mirror. Across her limbs, nylon webs kept her rigid like a mummy. Her arms weren’t visible, and I assumed tied behind her. Her head was layered extensively in pantyhose, wrapped, stretched over. There was a noticeable, cruel bulge from her mouth- something had been stuffed in. The flap of a thick, dirty sock hang over where her nose was, held in place by beige bandage. Her pert breasts were the only thing on display, thick clothes pegs callously stretched across her nipples, stretching them out like balloons.

As she heard voices the figure moaned incoherently. The muffle of material in her mouth kept her whine as something primitive. Eve leaned against the mirror and the figure shuffled, slightly rocking the structure. The hosiery that wound around her her to the mirror meant her struggles barely made any impact.

I was speechless. Eve smirked, fist cupped in her other hand.

“Payback! I don’t really get what the deal is with your fetish, but what this -mystery culprit- did was out of order. Why not give them a some punishment? They might even like it!”

“W-what have you done to them?” I exasperatedly said, recoiling as the victim groaned.

Eve energetically smiled, grabbing their cheeks and squashing with a vice-like hand, being met with the sounds of a stuffed mouth.

“Every day this week I went to the gym wearing some of these bad boys.” She pinched a layer of the hood, letting it snap back into place. “They’ve got to really smell!”

With the flourish of a magician explaining her trick, she pressed on cruelly. “We have a pair of old knickers crammed into her mouth. It took a lot of crying but I managed to get some stinky socks in there for her to chew too. Then came all of those sweaty tights…there was a lot of protest but I think she started to enjoy it, because she’s barely made a peep in the last hour!”

I started to interject, but she held a hand up.

“Finally, we’ve got a thick woolen sock pressed up on her nostrils. That was drenched in sweat last I checked. That’s probably been absorbed a bit by her nose now.”

I froze. My ears were boiling, and my heart pounded against my rib-cage. With shame I could feel my nipples hardening against my bra.

“Don’t worry. I took some pretty compromising facial pics. She goes to anyone and these are getting uploaded all over facebook! So, take your guess. I’m giving you thirty seconds! Remember, if you’re wrong…well, I’ve still left the smelliest, sweatiest pantyhose ready for your pervy face!”

I gulped hard. The victim’s face was completely shrouded in tight nylon. I had a one in nine chance of guessing, those odds were not in my favor. One wrong name and I was about to get mummified in my best friend’s dirty pantyhose. As I looked on Eve’s eager face, I slowly realized…perhaps we both wanted it that way.” — pantyhosefootslut

7.

“Jovelyn stares at herself in the mirror. Her looks are that of a typical Filipino. Average height and build. Her attractiveness is something lost on her, however, since her divorce and even being in her lower 40s she has attracted the attention of more than her fair share of suitors. That can wait for now, the kids are gone to school and I have to get to work.

“But my bed looks so comfy!”

Working for a barbecue food truck is not glamorous but a necessity at this crossroads in her life but she does meet some interesting characters.

The long walk to work is joined with crisp morning air. She shivers and pulls her jacket tighter. She reaches her destination and is greeted by her boss.

“Good morning Jovelyn, I have some errands to run so today you will be on your own.”

This is nothing new, she has just started working here and already she has been left alone to run the place unsupervised. She shrugs, “I like working on my own.”

The day goes by slowly, her thoughts often thinking about what her plans are after work. “Maybe I’ll go to the club, I could use a stiff drink! I wonder how much I made in tips……”

“The rib plate, please.”

Before her stands a man in his mid 30s, slightly overweight with a beard. Not an attractive man but not ugly either. That is not what caught her attention, his eyes. In his eyes she sees a hunger. Not a hunger for mere ribs, a hunger for something deeper, something personal. His gaze follows her as she moves about the truck gathering his order. She can feel it. She is vulnerable, naked, exposed. Shivers run down her spine despite the heat in the cramped quarters of the food truck.

“You must be new here, I’m Joe.”

“Jovelyn.”

She rushes through the rest of the transaction. Why was she left alone today?

His gaze is knowing, it sees right through her, it knows her thoughts. With a wry smile he says, “Thank you.”

She shivers once more.

“I’ll have the combo plate.” a female voice announced. And with that Joe vanishes from sight.

“Thankfully I will be off soon!”

The rest of the day and closing are uneventful but Jovelyn feels an uneasiness at the back of her mind. Night has come early and darkness leads her way home.

“I can’t wait to feel the comfort of my own bed. Just a short nap before I go clubbing. It has been a long day and my feet are killing me.”

Darkness turns to black.

Jovelyn awakens, groggy, unaware of her surroundings. A moist trickle falls from her forehead. She tries to move but can’t. She tries to cry out but her voice is muffled. Something is in her mouth. Panicking her vision clears. She studies her surroundings. She is on a bed. Not hers. Whose bed is this? She still cannot move. Her hands are tied behind her back. Why are my hands tied? She looks further trying desperately to find something. Something familiar. Answers.

Then she sees him. Joe. Sitting across the room from her. A wry smile inches across his face. In his hands he is toying with a knife. It’s curved blade, even from this distance, appears razor sharp. But more so she sees his eyes. Their Hunger. Their Lust. Never before has a man looked at her in this way.

“You are awake.” Slowly and with purpose he rises and makes his way toward her. The knife he is wielding ever present. “Good.”

He reaches for her. As she tries to shy away from his touch she is paralyzed in fear. His hand wraps around her throat pulling her closer to him. She can feel the Warmth of his breath on her face. He brings the knife up letting the blade slide harmlessly across her cheek. The coldness of the metal sends a chill down her spine.

He moves the blade down her shoulders. Down to the rim of her shirt. With skill he begins to cutaway at the fabric. Revealing first her abdomen then her chest, leaving her lingerie intact. He peals back the shattered remains of what once was her shirt. Her heaving bosom hiding beneath her bra. She tries to gasp as his knife rips through the thin lace releasing her breasts exposing them to his gaze.

He looks at her, the lust in his eyes blazing. He runs the blade slowly across her nipple. Very thinly but with purpose cutting the flesh ever so slightly. A small drop of blood seeps from the wound. He leans down bringing her breast to his mouth. His tongue moist and rough tastes her nipple, her flesh, her blood. She winces in pain but something stirs within her.

He lies her back down on the bed and begins to work on her pants. Deftly they are removed and discarded. With a few strokes of the knife Jovelyn’s panties are discarded as well. She lies there powerless, naked, exposed.

Joe’s eyes take in the full beauty of her naked writhing body. Her soft breasts. Her moist pussy. The lust in his eyes cannot be contained.

He turns her over. She can feel him stare at her ample ass. His rough hands grab at the soft skin of her cheeks pulling them apart so he can get a good clear view at her rectum. With a grin he gives her a nice firm slap on her ass-cheek. She tries to cry out but can’t. He strikes her again and again until her ass is red and numb from the pain.

Rising from the bed she watches in horror as Joe disrobes slowly and with intent. Jovelyn knows what is coming. Her pussy moistens with anticipation. I don’t want this. I shouldn’t want this. Why do I want this?

Now exposed to her Jovelyn has a full view of Joe’s manhood. Not the largest she has ever seen but it will hurt once its thrust into her, she knows. And the curvature would make a nice fit rubbing her clit in all the right places.

“Like what you see?” Joe takes notice with a smile.

Jovelyn, embarrassed tries to look away but Joe has grabbed her by the neck once again. He removes the ball gag from her mouth and brings her face to his. With roughness and passion he kisses her, choking her until she gasps. Without giving her a chance to breath he sticks his tongue in her mouth. Tasting her tongue with his. He holds her, kissing her, tasting her, choking her.

After long moments he allows her to breathe. He pulls her back, she looks at him gasping for breath. He smiles. Slowly and with great power he forces her head down. Down to his waiting member throbbing with anticipation. She tries to fight it, he is too powerful. The head of his penis touches her lips. She tries to deny him this access but with a thrust her lips part and she can feel his penis fill her mouth.

She can taste his member on her tongue. The saltiness of his pre-cum. As if a force has taken over her she begins to taste him more, to lick him, to suck him. She needs him, she wants him, what is she thinking? Dizzy and her mind a blur she begins to passionately take him in her mouth. She lets a smile slip from her lips as she hears him moan in pleasure.

I want to taste him, I want to feel the warmth of his cum in my mouth. No. He kidnapped me. He’s raping me! She pulls away, struggling to break free.

He yanks her hair back forcing her to look up at him. He raises his hand and slaps her across the cheek. She falls to the bed, her face stings where he struck her.

He grabs her by the hair once more turning her head to look back at him. The lust in his eyes blazes as she looks at him, tears running down her cheeks. He winks at her as he grabs her waist with his free hand and pulls her into him. Jovelyn screams out in pain as he savagely thrusts his penis into her unprepared vagina.

He shoves her head into the bed as he begins to thrust his manhood into her. Forcefully, deeply. Over and over. The head of his penis rubbing against her clit with each full stroke. Gasping she begins to cry out. No! As she does she realizes to her horror how much she needs this, how much she wants this.

Her pussy begins to drip, with blood, with her cum, with his cum? She doesn’t know. Jovelyn cums again. Yes this time I’m sure of it.

“I’m cumming!” she cries aloud.

Amused Joe rams into her more vigorously. Jovelyn screams in pleasure, in pain. He continues at it her pussy now raw and sore Jovelyn does not know how much more she can take.

He is a beast and he is dominating her.

“Please cum.” she pleads, “my pussy can’t take anymore.” With a few more forceful strokes, Joe concedes and backs off.

In a heap Jovelyn collapses onto the bed gasping for air. Before she can rest she is grabbed, this time with both hands.

He brings her into him she can feel the tip of his penis press against her rectum before he rams it in tearing her ass. Making her scream once more. His throbbing member tears and stretches her now gaping asshole. Thankful for the reprieve from her pussy, Jovelyn now turns her attention to this new invasion of her body.

I can’t cum again, I won’t cum again. She feels Joe’s penis engorge in her ass as she knows what’s next. Joe with a moan releases his load of hot sperm inside Jovelyn’s ass as she screams out “I’m cumming!”

Darkness fades to black.” — Jejomar

8.

“I breathed slowly, in and out, and realized that I was more aware of each sensation of my body than I had ever been before.

I felt my legs spread wide, and my pussy opening wide for Nate. I felt the pressure of his body on top of mine. My hands were over my head, and his hands rested on my wrists, rendering me again helpless, but certainly not in a way that I minded.

Aside from my deep breaths, I was otherwise perfectly still, as Nate had ordered me to be. I remained acutely aware of the feeling of my pussy stretching for him as I had never done for anyone else before

I was waiting, for what felt like an eternity, for Nate to go ahead and fuck me.

“Is my little Slut ready for me to fuck her?” he teased.

Oh, I was more than ready. My wetness – liquid lust and desire – dripped out from my pussy and down my ass as though answering his question for me.

“Yes Sir,” I said confidently, then waited to receive.

“Then tell me exactly what you want. Beg me for it.”

I paused.

“Sir, please fuck my wet pussy with your hard cock.”

He didn’t start.

“More,” he instructed.

“Please, Sir. My pussy is yours. Use it for your pleasure.”

He smiled, then let out a subtle but visceral growl and gripped my wrists tighter as he began to thrust inside me. My mouth fell open and my eyes rolled back with pleasure as I finally felt some release. My legs and stomach spasmed as he continued to thrust. It wasn’t just in-and-out, either. He did a body roll-type thrust each time that stimulated my g-spot and pushed me to orgasm. I remembered his rule from earlier.

“Sir, may I cum?”

“No,” he said flatly.

“Turn over, on all fours.”

I did.

Soon, I felt his cock again stretch my hungry, wet pussy from behind. His thrusts were deeper now, in this position. I gripped the sheets as he held on to my waist and pulled me back into his cock.

“Look at me.”

I did, and was greeted by his outstretched finger, which he soon pushed past my lips and into my mouth. I sucked his finger just as I had sucked his cock: I tightened my lips around it while also swirling my tongue around the tip. He let out a moan that made me feel triumphant. I could tell he was enjoying himself, too. Then he removed his finger from my mouth and I felt another new sensation. While his cock was still stretching and thrusting in my pussy from behind, now I felt the tip of his finger, wet with my saliva, circling the opening of my asshole.

We discussed this at our earlier “meeting” and I agreed that it was on the menu, despite having never tried it before. A second or two later, he slipped his finger into my tight asshole. I gasped immediately, having never felt my holes so completely filled as I did in this very moment. He fucked my ass with his finger in the same rhythm to match his thrusts inside my pussy.

“Sir, May I pleeeease cum?” I whined.

“You may, since you’ve been such a good girl.”

With my request granted, I closed my eyes and focused again on the feeling of Nate completely filling my holes. I gripped the sheets and pushed my ass and pussy back onto him, taking both his cock and his finger into myself harder. My tits hung down below me, with my nipples the hardest I could ever recall them being. My legs began to shake and my juices gave way, dripping down my thigh. With a loud moan, i clamped down on Nate’s cock with my pussy and on his finger with my ass and had the best orgasm I could recall in years and perhaps ever. I immediately relaxed.

He was still rock-hard, though.

“Oh, I’m not finished yet, slut. Turn over.”

I turned over, again on my back. Nate held onto my wrists again, over my head.

“Where should I cum?” He asked.

“My tits,” I suggested.

“Yours tits what?” he prompted.

“Please cum on my tits, Sir.”

He let out another little growl of enthusiasm and began fiercely thrusting. It would have hurt, if it hadn’t also felt so good. I spread my legs as wide as I could to take all of him in with each thrust.

Soon, he, too, began to shake and moan quietly at first, then louder. Suddenly, he withdrew his cock from my pussy, removed the condom, and shot his warm cum all over my tits.

“Thank you, Sir.”

This was its own reward for me, as I’ve always seen cum as a tangible manifestation of desire. I loved the feeling of his hot cum hitting my nipples, cleavage, and neck.

He paused, then, before me, as I wondered what was next.

“Get on your knees.”

I did.

“It’s time for clean up. Lick and suck until not a drop of cum remains on my cock.”

I did as I was told and savored the warm, salty reward.

Day 1 of experimentation as a Sub was a success and it appeared that this was going to be an educational summer.” — JaneYouIgnorantSmut

9.

“It’s the Master and Servants week-end at The Miami Key Club, a hot members only sex club, and tonight is the Master’s Ball.

Upstairs one of the mansion’s bedrooms, where the party raged beneath us, my boyfriend, Greg was ready to go, but was I was still fidgeting with the impossibly tight shiny black PVC bustier dress with a silver snaps down the front that Greg brought for me to wear. My waist was snatched in so tight I could barely breathe. My boobs were mashed up into two high sitting globes of flesh but damn, it gave me an hourglass figure. I finger fluffed my hot curled brunette hair before pulling up the bustier which threatened to expose my boobs.

I said, “It’s so tight.”

“It’s supposed to be tight. So we can see that sweet ass of yours.”

He slapped my shiny black ass which sent me teetering in my high hooker heels.

“Sit,” he said.

I did. He put my collar around my neck and buckled it closed. I looked up into his serious face.

He said, “You are to address me as ‘master’. Understood?”

I giggled before answering as told. “Yes, master.”

“You’re mine tonight. Only mine, you got it?”

“Yes, master.”

“I’m the only one who’s fucking you.”

“Yes, master.”

He unzipped his pants and pulled out his semi-hard dick.

“Open,” he said.

I opened my mouth and he placed his stirring manhood inside my mouth. I felt it harden as he slid it back and forth over my tongue, steadying himself with his hands on top of my head.

He said, “You taste that? This is the only dick that goes in your mouth. You’ll do what I say. Understand?”

He pulled his cock from my mouth and I answered, “Yes, master.”

“Good,” he said.

He put his cock back in his pants before attaching a small link metal leash onto my collar.

He gave it a playful jerk saying, “Come on, babe. Let’s go party.” We left our bedroom and locked the door. Greg took the house key on a maroon tassel and wound it around my wrist, to wear like a bracelet, before we followed the music to the stairs. My mouth dropped at the scene below. A crowd of party goers in outrageous outfits filled the foyer, mixing and mingling with drinks in their hands as they made their way to explore the rooms of themed decadence. We sauntered down the stairs all sexy like, and waited for security at the stair’s base to draw back the velvet rope separating the upstairs’ guest rooms from the party. Our little club of twenty guests had swelled to over one hundred strangers with more arriving by Uber and cab. Doms led their scantily dressed slaves around by leashes. Mistresses of all sizes were dressed in black had male slaves dressed in Speedos walking or crawling on leashes beside their domme’s side. I passed a woman wearing a bunch of belts as a skimpy dress, her ass cheeks jiggling as she made her way to one of the bars. A hairy bear of a man in black leather pants brushed by me as he led a skinny dude dressed in a full leather body suit and a gimp mask with a closed zipper mouth being by the leash. There were women in French maid outfits. And those were the tame ones. One girl passed me with the words ‘CUM SLUT’ written across her forehead with a magic marker.

We approached the mysterious, infamous Play Pen. It was designated with a sign posted at the top of the basement stairs which read, ‘Abandon All Hope’ with an arrow pointing down the stairs. Greg took my leash and led me down to the dungeon, better known as Dante’s first ring of sodomy hell. The basement, a finished recreation room had been turned into a dark, intimate orgy room lit by well-placed white cylinders of electric candles. The place smelled of new plastic and the pungent funk of sex. Sheets covered bean bags and couches, and baskets of condoms and lube were placed on nearby tables. People had paired off and were having oral sex and fucking in dark corners while others made out on couches in the shadows. Rugged groans and passionate moans flowed from dark.

Greg tugged my leash and we walked over to a girl in a sex swing surrounded by four guys. We sipped our drinks as we watched a blind folded busty blonde woman in her thirties restrained on the black leather seat suspended from the ceiling by chains get fucked by a muscular guy with hairy chest. The chains jangled under the ferocity of his thrusts as he rammed the woman’s pussy with audible smacks of skin on skin. I found myself getting aroused, turned on by the sound of skin slapping skin.

A cheer from behind me made me look over my shoulder to the crowd surrounded a pool table lit by an overhead billiard lights. Through the shadowy bodies, I saw a red headed girl with pale skin lying on the table. Her legs split were up in the air, held there by a masked man pounding her tight hole while others watched, stroking their hard cocks as they waited for their turn. The masked man shoved his dick into her balls deep and he growled as he came before withdrawing from young woman. Her inner thighs glistened with cum and lube. He let her legs fall off the table’s edge before the next guy, a black dude, walked up between his thighs and raised her legs to expose his rosy pink gash. He prodded it with his curved nine inch dick until it found its way in. An older bald man stuck his tongue in her ear.

He kept saying, “Take it for daddy. Take it for daddy.”

I wanted to touch myself, to masturbate until I came. I turned to Greg still fixated on the sight of the blonde with the bouncing breasts getting banged in the sex swing.

“Master, I have to use the bathroom.”

Too mesmerized by the sight of the girl getting fucked in the swing, Greg simply let go of my hand.

“Sure, go, go.”

Totally worked up, my inner thighs now slick, I walked away to cool down. My leash bounced against my half exposed breasts as I slinked through the groups of people watching sex acts. I tromped up the stairs out of the basement and through the crowd to the stairs where security let me through to my room. I simply peed and cleaned myself up between my legs, now cool enough to the point where I no longer yearned to rub out a quick orgasm. I returned downstairs but before I headed back down to the basement to find Greg, I stopped off at the bar outside the dance room for another drink. Between the sexy music, the anything goes atmosphere and all the bondage gear, I felt like pouncing on someone. I wanted to be a domme. It was then that I saw her, the girl sipping a club soda two people down the bar. She had dark hair like me but instead of being dressed in black, as ninety nine percent of the people were wearing, she was dressed a white tube top and tight white bell bottom pants. She looked like a lamb.

She didn’t have on a collar and I didn’t recognize her as a guest in the house. She was just standing there, this young thing younger than I, waiting for someone to take advantage of her. I grabbed my drink and sidled up beside her. She was much shorter than I but had bigger boobs.

Above the music, I said, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

She looked up at me. Such a pretty face with pillowy pink lips big brown eyes topped with black lashes. Her fine gold necklaces flashed against her pretty tanned skin. I want to be her.

I asked, “What’s your name?”

“Gina.”

“Where’s your date?”

“I don’t know. He disappeared.”

I took her by the hand. Hesitant, she didn’t resist. Her limp hand remained in my grip.

I said, “House rules say that if you don’t have a collar on or not with your master, you’re house property.”

“Oh, oh, okay.”

I couldn’t believe she was naïve enough to believe that. I took her by the hand and with our drinks in hand, I led Gina to the stairs. Security stepped aside to let us pass. She was impressed.

“Do you live here?” she asked.

“Naw. I just have privileges.”

I unlocked our door and brought her inside before closing it behind me. Except for the bass beat thumping up from the floor, the room was completely quiet. I set down my drink before approaching her. She waited in wide eyed anticipation. I took the drink from her hand and set it down then yanked down her top. Her gold necklaces landed between her caramel tipped boobs. She looked at me with questioning eyes. We exchanged no words. I tweaked her nipples with my fingers and pulled her closer to me. I gently squeezed her natural tits. Her breath was warm on my neck. Then I placed my hands upon her shoulders and with my eyes locked upon her, I firmly forced her to kneel. She put up no resistance as she dropped to one knee and then the other. I pulled my tight dress up over my butt, sat on the bed and spread my legs. I had no panties on.

I snarled, “Eat my pussy.”

She stared at the naked pussy, then up at me. I gave her a serious look like a mean girl who just trapped a freshman in the bathroom. She returned her gaze to my sex before she wrapped her hands around my butt, and leaned in to lick me. Her little tentative tongue parted my pussy lips and probed until it found my swollen clit on which she started to suck as though it were her new obsession.

I growled, “Suck it like a good girl. That’s my good girl.”

It felt so good. Then the little fox used her fingers to pry open my lips where she pressed her face all the way in. My hips involuntarily bucked my pelvis against her muffled face as her tongue hit my sweet spot time and time again. She knew what she was doing.

“Yeah, baby,” I hissed before sucking in breath.

My hands dug into her silky hair and I fell back against the bed as she gave my now exposed clit a thorough licking. Already aroused by everything I’ve just seen, it didn’t take long and I gasped as I began to cum. I clutched her head to me so tightly, I wondered if she could breathe. Her tongue moved quicker, urgent to send me over the edge.

“Fuck!” I yelled as a torrent of spasms vibrated throughout my loins.

Her hair rubbed between my thighs before I let her go. Gina kept her head in my crotch, gently flicking little loving tongue across my pussy in total devotion. She looked so hot. I gently pushed her from my too sensitive clit and closed my legs. I stood and pulled my dress down before helping her to her feet. Then I kissed her, tasting myself on her tongue. I led her to the bathroom where we fixed our faces, she washing off the crusting fluids around her lips with a dampened wash towel.

After putting on her lipstick, she asked, “What’s your name?”

I held up the tag on my collar for her to read.

“Stella,” she said.

We both left the room, going back downstairs where I let go of her hand. She drifted off into the crowd as I made my way to the warm and stuffy basement where I left Greg. He was still watching the woman in the leather sex swing getting pegged, this time by an athletic mistress with a black pixie cut hair with a big purple strap-on. The woman had a demonic red lipped smile as she slowly pumped the ten inch dildo in and out of the blonde. It was so lurid. Greg finally noticed my return.

He asked, “Where have you been?”

I’m the worst liar so I don’t lie. “I was with a girl, master.”

He gave me a curious look.

“Did you eat her or she eat you?”

“She ate me.”

“And I wasn’t there to watch?”

“Sorry, master.”

It dawned on me that I had unwittingly given him a reason to punish me. He took me by my leash and led me to a leather padded wooden A-shaped sawhorse which had buckled leather restraints at the base of it four legs.

He said, “Bend over.”

I resisted, afraid of what would come next, but he yanked my leash down.

“Bend over.”

“Yes, master.”

I bent over the padded top, resting my stomach and breast upon it before letting my arms hang down. My hair fell over me as I head hung over the edge. Greg nudged my legs open with his feet. My ankles wobbled in the unsteady heels as he buckled my ankles to the wooden legs. He walked around and alternated between smiling in my face and looking down at his job as he buckled my wrist into the leather cuff.

He said, “You’ve been a bad servant. You must be punished.”” — JulianDelacourt

10.

“We had been toying around with BDSM; testing our boundaries and exploring the multiple facets of a Dom/Sub relationship. I have been and always will be a sub but I did not have a complete understanding of what I would be willing to explore. The stories I post here will chronicle that evolution.

He had made me a collar the night before. It was rough, just a piece of vegetan leather with a heavy chrome buckle and a leash loop. It had only one hole and it was made to fit me tight.

I turned up my nose when he presented it to me. He is an experienced craftsman and I knew he was capable of better. I am his treasured pet and I thought (foolishly) that I was deserving of better. I didn’t want anything fancy, just something more suitable.

“It’s just a prototype, I need to see that it will hold up. If you behave I will make you a nicer one.”

I beamed at him and allowed him to put it on me. It was tight and rigid, the edges were almost sharp. The buckle felt cold and heavy on the back of my neck. Fuck, did I feel sexy. I also felt the comfortable weight of submission fall upon my shoulders.

“It suits you. Come, I want to test it out.” His voice was hard and demanding. He snapped a leash to the loop. The pressure jolted my head and was terribly intimidating. I silently nodded and hesitantly followed him to the bedroom. He had never asked that I crawl in his presence but with the leash………..

Once we had arrived to the second floor landing he turned around and placed a hand on my shoulder. I knew immediately what he wanted, I lowered to my knees and with a bite to my lip followed him to the bed on all fours.

My heart and mind were racing. I had been submissive before but the collar added a new element, I couldn’t put my finger on it! All I could think about was having a little name tag on my collar; what would it say, I wondered.

I obediently sat on the bed as he commanded I do and he tied the leash to the hooks that he had installed into the ceiling.

“Sit, Pet.” He said, smoothing my hair and straightening my collar.

I watched as he undressed and I could feel how wet my panties were becoming. It was terribly distracting.

“Did I tell you that you could stop watching?”

My attention snapped back to him and I shook my head as I bit my lip. I really wanted a new collar, I really had to behave.

He changed from his work clothes into the oh so familiar black slacks and shiny black boots that meant he was my Master. There was no questioning it now, obedience was compulsory. My panties were soaked through the moment I saw him pull the boots out of the closet. I quivered with anticipation.

He approached me, my god he was an imposing image. I felt so small in front of him. “Take off your clothes,” he demanded.

I blushed as I pulled off my jeans, I didn’t want him to see how wet that I was just from being intimidated by him. But see he did and he smiled a wry smile that made me squirm. He removed the leash so that I could remove my top and quickly reattached it. His cock was hard but restrained by his slacks. My nipples were hard and extremely sensitive to his touch when he finally chose to touch me; I squirmed and moaned at his touch and I couldn’t stop my hips from grinding as his fingers slipped between my legs.

“Oh. I see that you’ve made yourself ready for me….” he said as he slipped two fingers into my sopping wet pussy. I think that I visibly withered when he withdrew them immediately and raised them to his lips, his eyes never left mine as he tasted me.

“Good, Pet.”

I smiled and thought about my new collar. I raised my hands to the waist of his pants so that I could undo them but he stopped me with a stern no. He demanded that I bend over and I obeyed, though I knew he wasn’t going to fuck me I retained a small amount of hope that he would. The sting of the flog on my bare ass took care of that.

Following my punishment he untied my leash and motioned towards the floor, “Bad pets don’t get to use the bed.”

I whimpered and obediently sat on the sheepskin rug at his feet, feeling the new collar slip through my grasp. The fibers of the rug tickled my sensitive pussy, I was so fucking horny. I watched hungrily as he unleashed his cock and he stroked it slowly as he held my leash tight. He pulled me in close and his expression told me clearly what he wanted. I hesitated, wanting a definitive command, then reached my tongue out to lick his balls. I dared not touch him with my hands. He held his cock out for me and, with my hands gripping the bedframe tight, I licked the length of his shaft. I ran my tongue around the head of his cock and our eyes met as I took it into my mouth. I took as much of it as I could, deep throating him until I gagged and he moaned his approval. My hips were grinding the air and I was sure that the lightest stroke of my clit would send me into an explosive orgasm. My saliva ran down his cock and my chin and his grip on my leash tightened as I ran my tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock. I licked and sucked the shaft, trying my best to clean up my sloppy mess, then took his cock back into my mouth and gave him an energetic mouth-fucking. My tongue danced around his head until he pulled me in closer, forcing his cock down my throat. His cock exploded in my mouth and down my throat. I didn’t stop, couldn’t stop sucking his cock. He gently pushed me away and I pushed back. I lapped the cum off of his cock and licked my lips. I was so damn pleased with myself. He put his semi-hard cock back into his pants and sat on the bed watching me as I squirmed. I had really hoped that this would be the part where he bent me over and shoved his cock into my pussy and gave me the pounding that I was hoping for, but my hope was very rapidly vanishing.

“You’ve been a very bad pet tonight. I don’t think that you deserve to be fucked, and I certainly don’t think that you deserve a new collar.”

I whimpered and suddenly felt very naked and very vulnerable.

“Master needs to eat. Don’t you dare leave that rug, and don’t you dare touch yourself,” he commanded. He fastened my leash to a loop on the bedframe and left me there in the dark.

Some time later I awoke from a nap on the floor. He was coming up the stairs with a bowl. I was pleased because I was actually quite hungry and I was very optimistic that the bowl was meant for me. He set it on the floor next to the rug.

The game was still on.

I looked up at him and then down into the bowl. It contained ice cream. No spoon.

All right, no hands then.

He detached my leash and smoothed my hair, then gave me permission to eat. I was blushing furiously, embarrassed and frustrated, but I lowered my face to the bowl and lapped at the ice cream. The bowl was too small and ice cream was getting all over my face; the metal loop of my collar kept hitting the side of the bowl. I tensed when he slid two fingers into my still-wet pussy and moaned loudly into my bowl. He gripped my hip and demanded that I keep eating, all the while he fingered-fucked me.

“Are you done eating, Pet?” he asked when my moans became too consistent.

I nodded and bit my lip.

“Good girl.” He motioned me up onto the bed and I excitedly obeyed. He pulled me to the edge of the bed and I opened my legs for him. He pushed his cock into me and my body quivered uncontrollably from pleasure. I was his filthy slut and his favorite pet, and he told me as much. He pushed my legs away from him to force his huge cock in further. It was painful, but I was so close, so very close to cumming. I’m sure that he could feel my pussy tightening around his cock because it wasn’t until then that he gave me permission to cum. I exhaled and started teasing my clit with my fingertips. Within moments I threw my head back and screamed, I moaned frantically and begged him to fuck me. He obliged, taking my hips firmly in his hands and forcing his cock into me as hard as I could handle. I screamed and moaned and writhed on the bed beneath him, my body being wracked with waves of pleasure. He pulled out and I knew he was cumming; I sat up in the bed in front of him just as he made his first shot of cum. It struck my lips and chin, the second my neck, then my breasts. We were panting, exhausted having played our game for nearly the entire evening.

He cleaned me up and with one hand on the buckle of my collar said; “You’re not going to be able to count the number of cum stains on this by the time I replace it.”

And just like that the collar was removed and the game was over.” — ruffntumbelle

11.

“I can feel an orgasm coming whilst starting to think about last night.

I went round to my best friends house but she went straight to sleep, she was ill.

I had a relationship with her brother she doesn’t know about and we have kissed a lot.

As soon as we could hear her snoring he came over to the sofa I was on and sat on me and we started to make out.

I could feel his bulge and he could feel me squirming from an orgasm coming on.

He asked if I wanted him to tie me up and fuck me and give me pain.

I said yes and he took me into his office and locked the door.

He layed me down on the desk, and ripped my clothes of (Actually broke all my clothes)

He twist tied my feet together and then to the radiator and he tied up my hands and tied them to a coat hook on the wall.

He started to caress my body. He kissed me all over and then started to slap my boobs. I LOVED it.

(Fuck I’m wet) (HELP)

He got two more twist ties and tied my boobs so they stuck up. He sat on my and started to stick his penis inside of me I moaned slightly too loud so he put tape over my mouth.

He picked up a box of sex toys, he took a huge but plug and covered it in lube and shoved it up my ass that then slammed back onto the desk as he dropped me.

He got a vibrator the strapped around my legs and out in onto my bare pussy.

He clamped my nipples and put a gag over my mouth.

He then turned the vibrator all the way up and left me over night.

He came in he next morning and his desk was covered in my cum.

He realised she thought I was home, he picked me up and took everything off except my ankles and wrists. Then he took me into his car, it was 5 an so no one was awake.

He drove me home and cave me a good fuck on my kitchen side.

He told me he had to go to work and left me tied up with and huge dildo in my ass with no lube, I was in pain but I loved it.

He came back and pushed the dildo up and down as I screamed through my gag.

He then fucked me again and then left me to sleep.” — ArizonaChai

12.

“Anna’s throat was dry, her nerves needed settling but she found solace that the chores seemed basic. Her hand reached out for the doorknob, turning it popped the lock free and sent an echo darting through the grand foyer that the maid had finally arrived. At first, she was amazed at the size of the mansion. “No wonder she needs a maid”, she thought. The walls were 25 feet high, a chandelier seemed to adorn every vaulted ceiling. Hardwood flooring was apparently too middle-class, as all flooring was marble or granite or some such style. She wondered if this was why her pumps were so large: every step announced her position in the household, with a sharp and precise click every time she moved. Was this so the woman could keep tabs on her whereabouts? Carpeting existed sparingly.

Finding herself in the kitchen, Anna held the list of chores over her pussy as the last remnants of her dignity stayed out of sight. Were the chores in order of how Miss Crosby wanted them completed? She decided she would go down the list in case they were, and headed up the curved staircase to find whichever of the many bedrooms was indeed housing laundry.

Anna checked a few doors, finding a full bathroom, an office bigger than her own bedroom, and two guest bedrooms. They were all in pristine condition, she felt proud of herself and noted she was getting into a proper maid mindset by scanning the bed and pillows, blinds and blankets to see if anything seemed out of place.

The last door was clearly the winner. The bed was bereft of sheets, the comforter sat more on the floor than on the bed. Pillows sat on the area rug that bordered the king sized bed. Anna realized she better wash all of the sheets as well.

Two doors sat on each side of the bedroom, one to a master bathroom, the other to a walk in closet and two hampers full of clothing. A groan filled the room as Anna realized between the two hampers and the king-sized comforter she would be doing laundry for the better part of 3 hours.

She piled it all up, but couldn’t help sneak a peek at the underwear. Curiosity getting the best of her as the woman had yet to appear either in person, or even in family photos, which Anna realized were non-existent. 38DDD, the tag read from Victoria’s Secret, laced in black and red. It was, to say the least, quite the piece. Underneath she found the matching garter, which seemed to be the same size as her own. It was apparent Miss Crosby had some curves, as Anna’s own hips and butt were plump and juicy.

No washer or dryer were spotted on Anna’s upstairs tour of the house, so with a hamper in each hand she made her way back downstairs, heels clicking all the way until she found the washroom tucked by the garage entrance, and started a load of laundry.

Dishes were next, the party girl in her made quick work of rinsing and loading the dish machine. If it’s one thing 5 sorority girls use, its coffee mugs, pint glasses and sandwich plates. She felt exposed more than ever when she bent over to tuck the plates into the racks, her cheeks spreading to expose her butthole and pussy lips from the rear. She blushed. So, it was just her luck that her sudden employer appeared from the hallway.

“I see you’ve acclimated well to your role, Annabelle. You’ve been here for less than 30 minutes and you have already started laundry and dishes. That’s very obedient of you.”

As the woman talked, she stood and turned and closed her legs, Anna held her hands, clasped together covering her bare pussy, her arms now pushing her firm together.

“Miss Crosby, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to clean your gorgeous house. I love how you’ve decorated it.”

Anna pictured her with pale skin and dark hair, but her blonde locks fell in curls over her shoulders and cascaded to the sides of her massive breasts. Her skin was freckled and tanned and the perfect hue of amber. The dress allowed her curves to be on full display, hugging her tight around her thighs and stopping above the knee. She was voluptuous, and beautiful. Anna was attracted to her immediately.

Miss Crosby looked at the outstretched hand like she were royalty and this maid was a plebian undeserving of any praise. She ignored it, and walked around the marble island to position herself better. Anna cast her eyes upon the ground, she sensed she did something to garner the scorn of this powerful, beautiful woman.

“When I am addressing you, or you are asking me a question, or reporting to me, you will stand facing me, hands behind your back, forearms touching and parallel to your shoulders. I want each hand to practically support the other elbow. This will assure your breasts, which are lovely I must say, to be fully displayed. Your legs spread, with two feet between your heels. This will assure your pussy, which I appreciate the smoothness of, to be fully displayed. Your chin held high, shoulders back, back straight. Is this understood?”

Anna couldn’t believe how this woman was talking to her. Her tone was like a military officer mixed with a dominatrix. The point was clear: Miss Caroline Crosby did not, by any means, mince words or fuck around.

“Yes, I completely understand, Caroline” Anna’s pussy tingled as she put herself into proper position, arms back, chin up, legs spread. The woman’s own heels let it be known that she was circling behind her and pivoting on one leg.

“Miss Crosby, or Miss Caroline.” she spoke, her voice sultry.

“Yes, sorry Miss Caroline, I understand” Anna replied.

Her hands reached around each side of Anna, fingers simultaneously sliding themselves around the 50’s style pin up garter belt. Inspecting her uniform, she began adjusting the holdups such as that the thigh highs sat higher upon Anna’s hips. She snickered when goosebumps appeared on her maids olive toned skin, Anna’s senses had sold her out: this was something she was enjoying.

“Now, Miss Anna Prescott stands before me in remiss. I was hoping we wouldn’t need a daily uniform inspection before you start your duties, but I guess we can’t all be winners.”

Miss Crosby had found a flaw somewhere. Anna’s mind raced. What could she possibly have fouled up? She tried to recall the instructions, so elegantly written in Miss Crosby’s script. That’s when the woman flicked Anna’s earrings. Studs, two in each ear. She had failed to remove all jewelry.

“If you’ll recall, Annabelle. I required all jewelry to be left upon the tray in the powder room. I understand mistakes happen, and seeing as how I am in a bit of forgiving mood, I will let this one slide.”

Anna had barely known this woman for more than 5 minutes and she already felt as if her world was crashing down. She had upset her mother countless times, soccer coaches, teammates, teachers and professors alike. But this felt terrible. Her stomach rolled, she felt…useless. Miss Crosby kept on. Her hands now tightening the ponytail Anna wore.

“However, I do have a pressing matter to discuss, before you answer, I want to know if you would be interested in keeping with this arrangement. Cleaning once a day, or every other day, or once a week. However many times I deem necessary. I will keep your school schedule in mind, so you will indeed supply me with your availability before leaving today. Are you prepared to be my maid for as long as we approve of this arrangement?”

Anna blurted out, with a sense of pride powering it along, “Yes, Miss Caroline. I am prepared to be your maid for as long as my services are necessary!”

By this time, the woman’s hands had moved themselves down to her shoulders and circled Anna’s breasts. Her nipples reacted. Hardening immediately, as if welcoming the pinch they proceeded to receive from the thumb and forefinger of Anna’s new employer. She held her breathe, not wanting to cry out in dissatisfaction.

“Good answer. Now, I will let you get back to your duties. But please think on this: I have an affinity for my maids to be a bit more restrained as they clean. Based on your body’s reaction to my touch, the way your eyes flicker when I speak to you, and the earring debacle aside, your propensity to already show obedience, I think you will enjoy what I have in mind. The more you allow me to restrain you, the better the hourly rate. Now, move along, finish your duties, and when you have an answer ready, I will be pool side.”

Her hands were gone from Anna’s breasts as fast as the heels disappeared down the hall. She had to catch her breathe, pouring herself a glass of water to relieve her parched throat.

She went back to her requirements. She dusted, but mainly used it as an excuse to snoop around. She couldn’t find any pictures, framed and hung, or placed upon any of the three fireplace mantles, or elsewhere. If she hadn’t yet seen this mysterious woman, it would be hard to prove she existed.

She moved laundry along, and headed upstairs to find clean sheets to make the bed. By this time her feet started to hurt, so the bed was made with her practically laying in it. That’s when she noticed the eyelets screwed into the headboard, and found matching ones down on the base board. In a multitude of spots to boot. Anna was not a naive girl, and had seen her fair share of porn.

She blushed, as she found herself fantasizing about being spread wide, chained to the bed, a slave to the buxom blonde. These thoughts were new to her, and she would have to interpret them in ways she hadn’t yet figured out. Sure, she knew what bondage was, and she made out with other females just as every other college girl had, but she had never had an appetite for something this kinky, of this magnitude, with another female.

Clearly Miss Caroline Crosby had an infatuation with bondage, bdsm and young college girls. Anna wanted to be included in that list.

The washing and drying moved along much faster than she anticipated, which made sense given Anna’s sorority house washer was older than her and Caroline’s was so high tech she had to check to see if it were even running. Towels were folded, clothes hung, pants pressed and placed into the sliding drawers of the walk in closet. She found no other hints of Miss Crosby’s kink, which left her disappointed, but wildly intrigued. What else was there to discover, if she couldn’t find the myriad of toys Anna was certain were stored somewhere. Plates and glasses and cups and mugs were placed delicately back into the cupboards, silverware wiped free of watermarks and sorted.

Her day came to an end at 3:30 on the dot. She found Miss Caroline reading under an umbrella poolside. Her breasts even more amazing in the one piece suit that clung to her body. She stared, but remembered the posture required to address the woman.

“I believe my work to be done for the day, Miss Crosby. I have checked off everything upon the list you provided, and I believe you will find everything to your satisfaction. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to clean your gorgeous house. I look forward to returning, and I would also like to formally accept your offer of restraint next time I am needed.”

Caroline simply looked over the top of her book at the stocking clad, bare breasted 21-year old.

“Very well. I will check your work shortly. Please leave your outfit back where you found it, as you clothes have been placed neatly for you to dress. I will see you at noon, sharp, the day after tomorrow. Your pay is in an envelope. Be on your way.”

Anna was dismissed bluntly. But with her back to the woman, her heels barking off of the cement of the poolside deck, she smiled. A big, shit eating grin.

She dressed, stepping out of the heels felt delightful on her soles, but the money in her hands was even better. There was even a tip included, for three and a half hours of work.” — BDSMWriter

13.

“I use to think there was something not normal about me. Well apart from the fact that I seem stuck in a 15yr old’s body. We’ll actually to be fair most 15yr old girls have bigger tits and ass than I do. So it’s more like I stopped growing mid pubity. And while that has its benefits, when your twenty something and your friends call u “the pedo trap” being this petit looses it’s appeal. No I mean mentally, sexually. I get turned on by things I know are wrong, not just what society says is wrong. In fact the more wrong it is, the more I fantasize about it. I use to feel ashamed about my sexuality, my, freakiness wasn’t something I shared with anyone. Then one day I decided not to be afraid and let my freak flag fly. And I got screwed over badly, and not in the way I wanted to be. Eventualy I did meet someone. Someone who did things to me. He tored down my inner walls then pined me against the bathroom walls. He tied me up and set me fee of my inhibitions. He blindfolded me so I could see the beauty in my senses. He filled me up so that I was left wanting more of only him. He pushed me over the edge and made my potential soar. He loved me into submission. And lastly, he screwed my brains out every freaking time. ” — TinyDaniels

14.

“Hannah sat at her computer desk, idling typing on the keyboard and occasionally clicking the mouse. Recently she’d been searching on the internet; specifically looking for things to spice up her sex life with her Boyfriend. She scrolled through pages and pages of toys; sleek vibrators, thick dildos and bottles of potions and lotions that could make you tingle and twist, burn or shiver! A whole world of pleasure ready to open up to her.

Her Boyfriend worked away a lot, and often came back too tired to pay any interest to her. She knew he wasn’t cheating, and the job was too good to pass up. Maybe it would just take a little surprise to get his motor running?

A few curious clicks later, and she found herself browsing Bondage. Handcuffs of steel or fur, soft and coarse ropes, gags and blindfolds! She was getting so turned on just scrolling through pages, throwing things into her cart. She giggles as she put in a few things particularly naughty, before something in the SALE section caught her eye.

SELF-TYING BONDAGE ROPE Simply wrap the rope around an object, put your hands in the loops, and tug the small string around your finger! The rope will tighten and leave you bound – unable to escape until you’re freed!

[Warning: For safety reasons, rope will automatically release after 24 hours.]

The example videos linked on site soon piqued her curiosity. Before long, her desire was bubbling between her tights as she watched clip after clip of the rope in use – and its users in use. Soon, an idea began to formulate in her head. A sordid, kinky, sexually outrageous idea! With a sly smile, she dropped in into her cart, and hit Purchase

A FEW DAYS LATER

Hannah sat at the kitchen table, an assortment of torn cardboard, clamshell packaging and parcel tape strewn all around her. She eyed the equipment laid out over the table, set and ready for her plan to rekindle the passion between her and her Boyfriend. There was one box that hadn’t arrived – but it didn’t matter. She was too horny to wait and her Boyfriend would be back any moment now. With a sly smile, she gathered up her things and put her plan into practice.

ONE HOUR LATER

The Delivery Man knocked impatiently on the front door – he hadn’t got all day. With a sigh he checked his watch; there were other parcels to be delivered today and he’d already spent too long waiting here. After knocking a few more times, to no avail, with he checked the address once more. It was correct, but he couldn’t just leave it here – It needed to be signed for.

He’d give it one last shot, but that was it – Maybe they were around back? He headed around the house to the garden gate and knocked on it as loud as he could, calling out; “Hello? Delivery!” The gate wasn’t latched, swinging open as he touched it. They must be out back. Taking his pen out of his pocket, he walked through the gate and into the back garden.

The fences of the garden were high, the trees set around them giving plenty of shade and cover. Most of the garden was grassed over, save for a short path and a stone patio. In the centre of the garden, a thick Oak tree grew straight up out of the ground, casting a pleasant, cool shadow. And tied to the tree, was a woman.

She had dark hair and fair skin, her body falling in the middle between slim and curvy. Her arms were wrapped back around the tree, tied with a rope. Her shapely legs were set slightly apart, showing off the fact the lingerie hugging her body was crotchless. It was made of panels of black fabric and intricate lace, stopping just under her full breasts, leaving them to stand naked, perky and free. Matching stockings went up to her knees, but no shoes, and lace sleeves were slipped over her arms. Her face was mostly obscured by a black blindfold covering her eyes and she was silent – a small ball gag stuffed her mouth.

The Delivery Man was frozen. He gingerly put the package on the floor and paced backwards and forwards. Training had never covered this. Should he untie her and ask for a signature? No, that’d just feel stupid. But he was running out of time, bound to his schedule. She must have heard him moving around, what looked like a smile forming over her gag, her thighs parting just a little bit more. He watches as the slit of her pussy mound delicately unzipped, her tantalizing pink flower blooming before his eyes. It dripped readily, almost shining with damp under the morning sun. His cock quickly began to stiffen in his pants, the allure of this mysterious woman getting him hot. Soon his thoughts were turning to giving her a different kind of delivery. But he couldn’t. Couldn’t he?

Hannah could barely contain herself – although, the rope and gag did a pretty good job of that. She couldn’t see through her blindfold, but the thought of her Boyfriend watching her now, tied up like a homecoming present! She could hear him moving on the grass, stems crunching under his feet as he admired her, his new toy ready and waiting to give him the perfect welcome. As he got closer, she could just imagine the lust in his eyes, his big cock unable to deny it, his urge to take her as his own, right now! He stops, only a few feet from her, and the tingle of a hand passing over her skin – not enough to touch, its shadow tantalizing her shoulders, and then her face. Little did she know, the Delivery Man was pausing as he went to take out her gag, his next breath ready to for some awkward explaining. But he didn’t. And all she felt was his hand move down, instead hovering under her spread pussy, so wet it was practically dripping onto his palm. Her short, tidy hairs just touched his skin.

It was too late to go back now. He’d given into his urges, the allure of this beauty, exposing herself to him, soaked in her own arousal. Her cupped her pussy in his hand, the hot, slick lips spreading over his palm. Her could feel her clit in middle of his hand, being gently squashed as he slowly circled and squeezed, almost testing her needy cunt. Hannah moaned into her gag, her head rolling as her Boyfriend finally touched her, muscles coiling like a spring as just that nearly brought her over the edge. All her pent-up frustration being lovingly massaged, her love and commitment to him leaking out in anticipation. Hannah was a quivering, trembling mess of arousal and fire, her whole body trembling, the gentle motions over her clit winding her up, bringing her closer and closer to a release she hadn’t been close to in so long.

He can’t wait any longer. The Delivery Man unzips his pants and tugs them down, yanking his stiff cock out of his boxer shorts. Hannah can just see her Boyfriends face now; always doing that narrow-eyed, lip-biting thing, then his mouth opening slightly as he prepares, his cock hard with lust for her, gripped in one hand. He strokes it gently a few times, all the way to its tip, before he moves his hand away, using his hips to guide it to her waiting pussy. Its thick head makes contact, fitting snug between her lips, bumping her clit as he moves it to down to her fuckhole. Then he puts both hands either side of her head, bearing down on her. His blue eyes stare at her with a swirling mix of love and horniness, as with a slow push of his hips, he takes her.

It’s effortless to push inside her, the soaking cunt all too ready to accept hard dick. Her wetness glistens over her thighs and on her pussy, collecting in her sparse hairs and glittering in the sunlight. The Delivery Man almost cums right there and then. She’s squeezing tight, the soft grip of her pussy feverish hot around his cock. Her tunnel clenches around his hard dick, egging it on, wanting it further in her pussy.

She moans softly into her gag, as her boyfriends cock pushes into her, feeling so big and thick. It must be how horny she’s become, making her pussy so tight. Or maybe how horny she makes him, his cock getting so big and hard! All she can do is squirm against the tree, moving her hips, trying to wiggle down onto his cock, all to eager to be impaled on his long, thick fuckstick. Only happy to oblige, the Delivery Man thrusts up, until the nub of her swollen clit touches the base of his cock – cunt fully stuffed. He unbuttons his shirt, throwing it to the ground. Grabbing the bark either side of her head, he braces himself and pushes up hard. The noises she makes in her covered mouth are turning him on so much, urging him to pound her like the whore she is – tied up and waiting for cock. She must be such a filthy slut, ready to be fucked silly by anyone and anything. Bet she can’t go out anywhere without craving cock, getting screwed by strangers.

“Fuck me!” She screams, bucking her hips down onto her boyfriend, his furious thrusting setting her pussy on fire! “Fuck your bound up little slut! Take her naked, slutty pussy! I’m just a bitch to be used by you, dominated by cock!” Although all that escapes her gag is muffled sounds of enjoyment. His strong hands move onto her shoulders, sliding down her front to grope her big, bouncing tits. Fingertips knead them, squeezing and pulling, before they clamp around her stiff nipples and tug. She almost cums! Cumming during sex!

His hands move off of her, grabbing the bottoms of her thighs and lifting her legs high. Her back moves up the trunk of the tree a little, his cock still savagely slapping her spread cunt. Her big bust at face level, the Delivery Man leans into them, closing his lips around one nipple, kissing and sucking on the sensitive little nubs. She just wants to grab her Boyfriends head, hold his head in her fingers and scream as he sucks, his cock using the pussy that’s so wet for him. She can see him in her mind – his naked, muscled back, his bottom thrusting up and down as he fucks her wild. He legs spread out either side of him, shaking as she cums and cums, begging him to fill her! FILL HER!

Her ear-splitting shriek is stopped dead by her gag, her pussy exploding into a soaking bust of wetness. her thighs shiver and shake, muscles quivering wildly all around her, throbbing with raw sexual fire. Her head throws back, and slumps down as she cums and cums, toes curling and pussy squeezing.

Her violent reactions are too much for the Delivery Man to watch. The slut cumming all over him, her pussy trying to swallow up the cock that’s saying all her slutty needs. His balls twist and churn, spreading heat up into his throbbing cock, he feels the first sharp spurts deep in his shaft, until he explodes into her bound body.

He groans heavily as his cum flooded out in powerful spurts, forced high by his heavy thrusting. Each squirt of virile seed sloshes and splashes through her aching cunt, until it’s so full he’s pumping into liquid, stretching her walls with pressure. She lets out a guttural groan as her Boyfriend breeds her like a stallion, her toes curling as his hot, thick spooge fills her pussy, leaking out around his cock and running down her thighs. Their orgasms slowly unwind, her muscles relaxing and his balls running dry. He stands, still stuffed in her, his body sheened with sweat. She’s well used and worn out, slumped down in her bonds, dripping all over the place.

With a wet splot, he draws his softening cock from her cunt, splattering the grass with his cum. It’s difficult to get his exhausted body to move. Wiping the sweat off of his brow and he staggers over to his discarded clothes, struggling back into his shirt. Shaking fingers finally manage to button it, and then pop his cap back onto his head. He looks at the girl tied to the tree, leaking his seed from the her spread lips of her well-fucked cunt.

What to do with her?

If he unties her, it might be awkward. What if this is a mistake – but surely you can’t tie yourself up by mistake? Can you? Has she been left like this by someone? What if he’s just raped her? A little panicked, he backs away down the path, just leaving the parcel on the patio. Searching around for prying eyes, he hurries back to his van.

Leaving the back gate wide open.

ELSEWHERE

Inside the house, on the kitchen table, he phone vibrates. The screen lights up, flashing a text message:

Not going to be home tonight. Had a breakdown at the plant. May take a day or so to fix; the overtime is good and we need the money.

Before the screen fades back to black.” — JenniferKlineEbooks

15.

“I was in a campground that had capture the flag, for 18 year old couples! My friends and I all had girlfriends, who we convinced to play, and they agreed! So, we signed up! When the ten of us (5 guys, 5 girls) walked into the arena/forest ‘play area’, they all gave us tight belts, that held a long elastic rope, some handcuffs, and a ballgag. We then got to our sides, where our flags were, and I noticed a building. I took a peek in the building, and I saw 5 neatly sheeted beds, with, you guessed it, bed bondage restraints on them (for prisoners)! Ohhh… That’s what the belt is for! My friends and I got to our positions, on our side, and the girls were a quarter of a mile away, by their flag! The manager then told us the rules:

•No Violence

•No Leaving Play Area

•No Team-Capturing (duh)

•Use Beds In Prisons For Prisoner Use ONLY

•Use Handcuffs And Elastic At Your Own Risk

•Once You Are Restrained, And Initially Captured, You Cannot Struggle. (Until you are tied to the bed, then you can attempt to escape, or have a teammate rescue you)

•Have Loads Of Fun!

Ok, my friends, and I, got on our podiums, and waited for the bell to ring, to signal the start! 3…2…1…RING! Here we go!

My friends and I then quickly huddled up, and talked about what our strategy would be! We then agreed that one of my friends, would guard the flag, two of my other friends could spy on the girl’s side, and the last two (me and the other last friend) would take prisoners. That is where the fun starts! We also then agreed on the direction that we all go in: I go on the right, my other helper is on the left, as well as the two spies! We then set out, slowly and quietly, towards the girl’s base. When I was within 200 feet from the base, I hid behind a tree. I then saw one of the girls in the other group, talking to two of her teammates. I looked for my girlfriend in the group, and I found her very quickly, because she is probably the prettiest girl that I have ever seen! I chose her as my main target, because she told me that she liked bondage, and that she would enjoy this competition! I then snuck closer, closer, and when I was 50 feet from the house, I noticed that there was a way for me to run behind the house, without being seen! I carefully laid out the plan, and made a run for it! As I reached the back of the prison house, I saw that my girlfriend had spotted me, and she was quietly walking around the back of the house. As she walked around the corner, I saw her, with her ballgag, in her hands, and the handcuffs in her other hand, and she ran towards me! I dodged her attack, and captured her, instead of her capturing me. I tied her hands behind her back, handcuffed them, and before she could notify her teammates, I put the ballgag in her mouth. She groaned from the gag, as I quietly, and quickly took her back to our prison. About five minutes later, we were at the prison, and I opened the prison door, with her hands still tied, and I got her on one of the beds. I then strapped the leg restraints to her legs, and I untied, and un-cuffed her hands, and tied the arm restraint to her arms! She was still gagged too! She looked so nice, tied to that bed, and her lovely groans that she made, from under the gag. I then grabbed a paddle, from the ‘torture wall’ in the room, and I rubbed it on her thighs, and I received some kinky groans in return.” — BondageStories