Your erotic stories

I was bored as hell. Absolutely nothing to do on a usual Monday night. That's basically the way I've lived my life since my divorce. A devoted mother of one fantastic son. But today Andy left to spend a week's vacation with his dad and that ugly, old piece of shit otherwise known as his dad's girlfriend.

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"Babe...let's get going in like five minutes..." the statement ended with a sigh as Master leaned into my bathroom. I turned and flashed him a sly smile, mascara still in hand. "Maybe like ten?" I bit my lower lip and blinked rapidly a few times, "Sir?" the last word was a sultry whisper and I saw it unravel him just slightly.

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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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So, here's a story you perhaps don't hear every day. It's a true story, but it has a couple of layers, so allow me to explain some of the moving parts. I'll try not to ramble too much so we can get to the juicy stuff. My name is Max and this happened to me. Sometimes I still can't believe how it all played out. I work at a small business in the hospitality industry.

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The minute he stepped into the room a slow and aching fear began to spread across his back and settle into his shoulders. In one quick glance he could tell his entrance was a mistake, but it was far too late to turn back. The room was a perfect cube, four rust stained walls, a window covered with a thick layer of dark brown filth, one solitary light bulb hanging from a mass of wires in the center, dangling forebodingly over a plain musty mattress.

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Long day at work, she thought to herself, taking a swig of diet coke and placing it back into the cupholder. Road signs, stop lights, and pedestrians blurred past her as she drove home. She was already planning out her evening, starting by taking off her shoes, dropping her bag, and immediately making herself a very tall scotch—on the rocks, of course.

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Carolyn couldn't sleep. Restless in her queen-sized bed, she glanced at the digital alarm clock. The numbers cast a faint green illumination in the still blackness. 2:37 a.m. Damn. She needed her sleep -- and her energy. But it was proving difficult. Tomorrow was the day. Now only hours away. The exhilaration coursed through her body again and her nipples began to harden.

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Jamie sat in his kitchen, studying the woman across from him. He squinted through the smoke from his pipe and, for a moment, saw her as she had been when they met. He smiled at the memory. She had been 19, he 35. Neither had believed the other could be interested in themselves. Yet they were. Then she had been young, pretty and immature.

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It had been a while since her Master had had time to play with her. His schedule at work, and the classes he was taking really cut into their time together. She had started to feel neglected, and as a result started to slip into bad habits. She was not showing him proper respect; Sir had all but been eliminated from her vocabulary.

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"So," I asked My wife and slave as W/we lay in bed, "have you given any thought to a Halloween costume for this year?" "What!?!" was her anticipated response. "Master, it's just barely the beginning of September!!!" "So?" I chided her, gently pinching her just above the hip bone. "There's no reason to not think about it now, is there?"

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