Marcellus Tvaris was a tailor. He was the very best of tailors. He could fit a dinner jacket with such precision, he fit his dresses with such delicacy, that he was able to keep his shop open in a suburb on the west side of Detroit for twenty five years. He had an exacting and accurate eye for detail. He would take notice of the particular way a man's waistline might bulge, of all a client's proportions, of how a man walks in his pants and use this information in his tailoring.
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Gaven waltzed through the room secure in his roman gladiator costume. Standing at a powerfully built 6'2", he commanded the attention of every lady in the room as well as over half the men, but each time he met another Dom's gaze, he lowered his eyes as expected of a Sub.
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Chapter 1
The last yellow rays of late afternoon sun cut through the old, leaded windows of the student union and caught Barb in the eyes as she sat next to Janet. She squinted, took a sip of her coke, and said, "Let's scoot around a little. The sun's starting to hit me in the eyes."
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I had known for a long time that he had a secret fetish involving bondage and domination. The books, the magazines, the web sites he surfed, all pointed to his fascination with it. It was obvious too, to see that he preferred to be the one restrained. The fact that he was so into it, really turned me on.
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Me and my buddies were going through the usual Saturday night routine. The evening always begins with us sitting around getting drunk and watching sports. We then head out to the local club when we are buzzing. We started off with the usual: buying a drink and checking out the place, just chilling basically. Anyway the club started to heat up and I decided to hit the dance floor. I was out there for a while mixing it up with the ladies when this gorgeous girl approaches me, she introduces herself as Amanda and we started grindin'.
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Now. I stand under the needling hot spray until the water starts to cool, and shut it off, and push the wide glass door open to release billows of steam. Drip and splash across the wide marble floor and wipe a clear circle on the mirror with a thick white towel. Behind me the sun is trying, and failing, to pierce the overcast. Not likely in February.
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Sadie was ready to say her final goodbye to the man who had dominated her mind for the past four years. His name was Bruce, and they had shared a volatile, passionate love affair online. Both were married, both had children, and both had an obsession for each other.
Over the course of the four years, the couple had fought and made up more times then either one could ever dream of counting.
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Pieces of light filter through the room from the crack in the bathroom door. A sliver is illuminated onto the closet mirrored door as sweat beads across my Dom's back. Slick skin glides next to mine as the anticipation of the next move courses through us both. A nervous glance passes between my lover and I as she takes my hand. This move in itself scares me because it is done without permission. We are guided towards him as he uses our hair to pull us into his chest.
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She paced the hotel room nervously, glancing every few minutes at the clock on the nightstand. Any minute now she thought, as the time slowly ticked by. Absently she twisted her fingers as she paced. She knew this was going to be different than anything she'd ever experienced, she didn't know how, she just inherently knew. What could she expect? She didn't know. She paused in front of the mirror, checking her hair and slight touch of makeup.
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She was feeling a little nervous as she arrived. Mistress Heather, as she was known in the D/s community, was still a rather young girl of 23. She had been a practicing Domme for a little over 3 years, however most of those experiences were in the confines of a few of her college relationships. It had only been for the last 9 months that the blond haired Domme had sought more professional experiences with true sub girls.
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