The booth. We'd talked about it and joked about it. We even called it his "cage". He hated it and yet spent every day there, in a dull job, doing dull things and waiting on dull people. I had teased him mercilessly while he was in there, forcing him to wait on customers with raging erections, even gotten him so aroused that he had willingly come in his pants and had to sit there, the rest of the day, with that sticky, cooling reminder of what I could do. And now...here it was.
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Jane squirmed in her seat. She hoped the hostess wouldn't notice her shifting in place. Jane hoped no one would detect her lightly bruised lips as the evidence of the rough kissing wore off. She looked over at Tom, who was staring at her with a twinkle in his eye. He knew just how uncomfortable she was feeling. And he loved to see her fidget and wriggle.
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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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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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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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I've recently begun to nurture an interest in bondage in my girlfriend Tina. Nothing too outrageous you understand; a little light restraint with silk scarves tied to the bed, that sort of thing. I've always gained quite a kick out of seeing a woman restrained and vulnerable. I'm not sure what Freud would make of that.
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The betrayal rocked her world. He swears that he loves you but then comes home with whip marks across his pretty ass! O this will NOT be tolerated! Riley had pushed Serena's bitch button and now he must pay the price. Telling her that he was going to a car show with his buddies, I mean come on! I'll take terrible lies for a thousand Alex. But Serena had been a major player in her time taking whatever man she wanted and to hell with the consequence and to her thinking this was a karmic balance.
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Thursday Night. I head home from work after another long day at the office. Fortunately, the trains are on time; I'm tired and hungry. I could use a hot meal and a shower, but, it's Thursday.
I walk up to my apartment door and unlock it. I know what's waiting for me. It's Thursday night. It's her night. I enter my apartment and she's there waiting for me. She's as beautiful as ever and as naked as the day God graced us with her presence on Earth.
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I laid there on our bed, cursing the morning sun as it broke through the curtains and onto my face. My blonde hair was strewn about the pillows as I opened one eye, squinting, to check my watch.
“Fuck me, it’s only 8:30!” I rolled over, pulling the blanket over my head to drown out the sunlight.
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I am at one of my "friend's" house for the afternoon because his wife is working late. I have just arrived and am anticipating what the afternoon has in store for us. I start to feel the twitching in my pants as my mind wanders. I quickly reach down and rub my cock through my pants as I get out of my car. I walk to the door and ring the bell. My shock is obvious as the door opens.
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