Your erotic stories

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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Asleep, comfortable at night, you lay snoring soundly. Your wife in deep slumber beside you, you feel something tug at your arm. A soft seductive voice calls your name. You stir gently, the voice beckoning, purring your name. You feel a hand searching under the blankets finding your leg she drags her nails up your thigh. You awaken fully to the realization that it is not your wife searching for you, but Vix. You open your eyes fully to find a dark figure kneeling beside the bed.

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He lay on the white sheeted bed, relaxed, in his robe, hands behind his head. She knelt at the foot of the bed, legs wide, back straight, hands resting on her thighs, eyes downcast, but stealing peeks at him from beneath her lashes. She was naked, wet, and ready, like she always was for him. And now she was waiting for his permission.

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So, this is it, I thought to myself. I had not told my wife of this plan, of course. It was not something that I cared to share with her. Then again, I didn't share much at all with her anymore, except for our last names. She had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with my "kinky stuff". That included spanking her, tying her up, and generally having my way with her. She was much more conservative than I turned out to be.

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