Your erotic stories

I write for a living. I don't have any great pretensions to be famous, I know my place in literature and it's not near the top of the tree. I write spanking stories for magazines like Paddles, Blush, Cane and Red Cheeks. Not exactly mind bending stuff but I enjoy spanking and I enjoy writing about spanking. I'm happy doing what I'm doing.

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John inserted the key into his front door as quietly as he could. He slipped inside, putting his laptop case down ever so gently, and closed his eyes for a moment. Oh, hello you! There she was, padding barefoot down the stairs. She did not come to him; she stopped three steps up, so that her womanly pubis was level with his mouth, so that he had to look up to her, almost look up her.

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The steady beat of an axe on wood echoed through the forest, loud in the absence of animals. It was foreign here, the first sounds of a long train of newcomers. It was wrong. For thousands of years the animals and their kin had run these lands, living in harmony with the forests and rivers that ran through it. Now man was coming, and with man came change. With man came war. With man, inevitably, would come death.

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i sat nervously sipping coffee and trying to eat a muffin, in the small outdated hotel lobby. business men came and went, with barely a glance at me, but the desk clerk seemed much too interested in my top. my breasts swayed back and forth in my low-neck shirt, unbound as my Master had required. and i felt as self-conscious about that as the thought of whatever else would be required of me this morning.

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You stand before me, hands behind your back, awaiting instruction attentively. I gesture in a way you understand. You unhook your bra, slide off your panties and hand them to me. I inhale the warm undergarments, kiss them, then set them aside. I step closer, grip you firmly by your upper arms and lower my head onto your throat, just under your collar.

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My name is Michael - family and friends call me Mike. At that time I considered myself an unremarkable 23 year-old, English WASP with a degree in psychology and a post-graduate certificate in education. I was working through my last summer before starting teaching in a secondary school near my old home town. I was brought up with the 'protestant work ethic' and had always had a job of some description as I went through my further and higher education.

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Ringgggg "Hello?" "Are you ready, little one?" Her pulse immediately quickened. "Yes, Sir." She said, almost breathlessly. How can he have such an effect on me - so strong, so immediate? Surely he's a magician. She waited for the next incantation. "Do you have your collar and cuffs on?"

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Part 1: Parking It’s a warm, spring, late afternoon. You’re parked in a very remote spot, overlooking the ocean, relaxing, having a beer after swimming and hanging out on the beach, and getting romantic with Rusty. You slide over on the seat next to him and start making out, getting very hot and bothered. As the sun sets, the sky lights up with fiery reds and oranges, helping to create a sense of passion. He starts running his hands up under your shirt, caressing your boobs, tweaking your nipples.

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As I looked up the steps to the front door of the Hawkwood family home, I was filled with dread and anxiety. I started up the first step and I could hear my mother pull away in her car behind me. I could hear the sound of rubber on the wet asphalt fade out as it made its way down the the circle of the drop off area to the black ribbon of the long driveway that led to the front gate, passing the lush grass and trees that lined it. I wasn't entirely sure why I was there.

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It's late. Deep within the AM. The storms are rattling the house, shaking all the windows... with a crash the room goes white, lit brightly beyond any recognition, for just a split second. Then total darkness. Again. I'm scared. I'm alone. I hear the sheets of rain colliding against my window...

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