Nancy placed a package on Laura's desk just as Laura looked up. Highlighter poised in the air, Laura questioned, "What's this?"
Nancy sighed and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "It's a package, Laura. Honestly, how did you become partner?" Laura laughed, turning the box around to read the label.
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I was 23 when I met Pat, who was 42 at the time. We were work colleagues and got on really well. Pat had dark hair hanging lustrously loose and a super pair of legs. She wore skirts every day and my gaze often followed her legs and ass around the room at work, or in the bar.
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She never had any concern about crying in front of Jason. To everybody else she would always smile, but Jason she'd always allowed to see her when she was hurt, as she was so badly now. He'd come over the moment she'd called, frowning disapprovingly as she had opened her front door for him and he had found her a mess of tears and tissues. Then he'd simply enveloped her in his arms and let her cry it out without even telling him why she was upset.
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I was having an interesting day. I was at a friend’s house and was having a few drinks. I had planned to be home in the afternoon to shower and change before meeting you later. I was expecting my evening to be a very interesting and educational interlude, and I wanted to be dressed just right for the occasion. Maybe a knee length skirt with side split and a low cut top.
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David padded naked back from the shower in a good mood. A day off work when his wife was working always gave him a positive feeling. A sense of freedom. What should he do? Undisturbed access to the Internet was on his mind. Flirt with someone in a chatroom or download some porn and jerk off. The day was his.
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Karen
March 2001
I first encountered Miss Chapman at school. She was the home economics teacher and a guidance teacher too. Teachers tended to view me as a generally intelligent pupil who inexplicably did stupid things to get in trouble occasionally. One such occasion when I was in my second last year resulted in me waiting to be called into Ms Chapman's office for trying to play truant that afternoon.
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Have you figured it out yet? Have you figured out which of your little insecurities is the one that drives you to submit? You've spent hours on the internet reading stories about dominating women bending weak men to their will. You should surely have some idea about submission and why you want it.
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The 14th Anniversary
A Valentine's Day Story
She was kneeling on the hard surface of their sturdy couch table. It had been repositioned to face the entrance of their apartment; so she would be the first thing her Mistress would see when she came home from work. By then, she knew her knees and shins would be hurting, her breasts would be throbbing with every heartbeat, her nipples would have gone numb and her lips dry -- and there was nothing she could do about it.
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The form letter flatly stated that my grade point average had fallen below the University's prerequisite for living on campus, so it was either apply for special dispensation, or find an apartment. I decided that four years in residence was more than enough for this girl, and hit the want ads that very afternoon.
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"There," Master says. I tug experimentally on the cuff she has just locked around my ankle, and that feeling of helplessness and trust washes over me like a warm, gentle wave. She looks at me appraisingly. "You know what happens next, slut."
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