Your erotic stories

Victoria didn't know why she bothered. If she had known, she wouldn't have spent so much time on her outfit. She arrived at Simon's place a little after sunset, so she wasn't too worried the neighbors would spot her in her slutty clothes. But... just to be safe, she put on a long skirt and overcoat as camouflage. She used the key Simon gave her last night and stepped inside the duplex.

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I dreamed of you again last night, your body haunts my mind. You bring your mouth to my ear and whisper that I'm a naughty girl and that you are going to punish me in any way you please. I half heartedly beg you to go easy on me but we both know that my body is getting moist just from the anticipation of what you are going to do to me.

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In another story in the Courtney series, I take a look backwards to the early days. This particular tale may very well be the reason I eventually married her. I was living in a studio apartment with just enough room for myself and my dog Max, which was a mix of all things big and slobbery. What Max lacked in looks he made up for in charm, but not towards strangers.

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Her back was hurting. Kate would never admit that of course, but as she waited bent over at the waist, delicate wrists encased in the heavy wooden stocks, it was hard not to notice the tugging ache in the base of her spine. For the first few hours she had proudly kept her chin up, meeting the eyes of everyone that walked past.

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The car arrives promptly at 09.30 hours, as stated on the card she had opened when she rose that morning. Sara has her small handbag with her, a light coat, and nothing else. Dressed smartly in a blouse and knee length skirt she closes and locks the front door, making her way down the path on sensible 2 inch heels, sheer stockings swishing together as she approaches the sleek black Mercedes that awaits her. A liveried chauffeur steps from the car and opens the rear door as she approaches.

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The box arrived on a Tuesday morning. It was wrapped in inconspicuous brown paper, and her address was printed with black marker in a grade-schooler-ish handwriting. Had she not recognized the return address, she might have been quick to assume that this was a prank, or perhaps a dangerous delivery - after all, these were troubled times, were they not?!

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Katie hummed to herself as she strolled down the hallway, her small arms holding a large basket of laundry braced against her stomach. As she reached to door to the laundry room, she pinned the basket to the wall as she dug for her key in her pocket. As she produced the tiny key, she lifted a knee to help her shaking arm bear the weight of the encumbering load as she struggled to slip it into the door. As the towering basket tipped to the side, a sock fell off onto the floor.

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Although there are female dominatrix, and male subjugationists, by and large the practice is the opposite: Males are Dom; fems are sub. This treatise is written to reflect this norm; however, genders may be exchanged at will. Domination is the ultimate seduction: The Dom is seducing the Sub into giving up his or her self-will.

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The chains rattled as he moved. He stood, head bowed, muscles tight and quivering with the effort not to resist. He listened to the murmurs around him. His lowered eyes glittered. His lips curled back from his teeth in a silent snarl as his large, powerful hands clenched in fists.

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Her silence spoke volumes as she looked out of the open window and saw a sea of green fields, interspersed by little islets of trees and edges. In the distance, a shadowy grey escarpment blocked her view of the sea itself, but she could hear the waves throwing themselves against the cliff-face under the heavy grey skies; and he wasn't listening to her.

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