There's nothing like a woman in leather, especially when that leather consists of straps binding wrists and ankles. Naked and spread-eagled. Damn. It's even better when the woman is a submissive like my savannah, already wet and glistening from mere anticipation. She'd been building for two months, and it showed in the breathlessness of her glistening face, in the pleading of her rock-solid nipples, those raspberries of flesh spiking upward from her full, graspable breasts, in the enticement of the shining fluids that coated her inner thighs and freshly-shaven loins.... ... (more)

Techno dripped in my ears, the smell of stale beer and cloves assaulted my noise. I wanted a woman, a good looking one of course. All night I had my eye on a young, lithe, blonde. Her perky nipples erupted into her tight short shirt that showed off her belly piercing. She seemed to be here with a short melon breasted friend. Only one hour left before the club closed for the night. ... ... (more)

I had never been with a woman before. The thought of it used to scare me. I guess, with age, sometimes a woman like myself can get curious. I've always liked to look at women and admire their beauty, but that's always as far as it got. I never thought of actually having real sex with another woman. ... ... (more)

We had been dating for six months. We were best friends, and great lovers, but it was over. So I sat in my room, alone, horny as hell, and tried to figure out how i could ever have another orgasm quite as good as the fiftieth one after three hours of uninterrupted sex. The phone rang.

"I don't want to date you. I want to fuck you." Way to say hello.

"Put on something sexy and come over." Click.... ... (more)

As I logged on to my computer and checked my e-mail, there it was. Another message from "wyldeone76", a woman I had been flirting with online for a number of weeks. What started as a rather innocent message from her explaining her curiosity about exploring her submissive nature had turned into full-blown pleas to be turned into my sex slave after we had exchanged some photos. She was a married 29 year-old suburban mom & housewife I had met online. She had already been telling me her 3-year long marriage was as good as over and that she was sick of not getting sexually satisfied. Her husband didn't have much of a sex drive, and didn't even come close to fulfilling her submissive fantasies.... ... (more)

Well continuing in the vein of chronicles of my experiences I may as well tell you about the very next encounter I had with my new master, as I last left you I had only just discovered my new calling in life. Now I shall tell you about my exploration of this new life style, when I say exploration what I obviously mean is my forced submission into it, and of course my eventual enjoyment of it.... ... (more)

Sasha Monet

He walked into the bedroom. He'd been gone for far too long on a business trip and was looking eagerly forward to spending some time with His girl. His room was simple, a large bed with four posts and some hooks and eyelets here and there in the heavy wooden frame. Furs on the floor for warmth when the stone tile cooled down like tonight. A fire in an open hearth against one wall and a large set of french doors opening out to a delightful garden in His yard. The walls wooden paneled and masculine looking. All in all a warm and inviting place for a Dominant and His girl to while away a few hours. As He entered the room she slipped to her knees and entered a perfect nadu, her body quivering as her eyes looked down and she opened her beauty for Him to behold.
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Anastasia Pierce

He didn't know what to expect when he entered the room.

She came up behind him and pushed him on the bed. Before he had a chance to figure out what was going on, she straddled over him and grabbed his arms. She took his hands and tied them together with the bandana that she was wearing around her neck. She then used another bandana that she had stashed near her bed with her other 'props' and wrapped it over his eyes and tied it tightly behind his head. He started to ask what was going on, and she ordered him to be quiet and not to say another word unless she authorized it. She rolled him over unto his back and stood on the side of the bed.
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Ivy Red

She stood outside the pub for a moment, pondering whether or not she should go in. She murmured thoughtfully to herself before deciding 'what the hell' she was on vacation, why the hell not? She pulled the door open and entered the darkened pub. She made her way to the bar where a man asked her in a thick accent what he could get for her.
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Ariana

 went to a Catholic girl's school, where we were under strict orders to dress and behave with exemplary modesty. When our plaid skirts rose above the knees we considered it daring. Nowadays there's a lot of guff about "letting children express their personalities", but I think our personalities were well expressed. As in many other environments where uniforms were the order of the day, we expressed our personalities in our dickeys (the abbreviated tie all the girls hated), in our hair ornaments (no more than two plain barrettes were allowed, but the boldest of us wore combs), and in our shoes.
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