Your erotic stories

This is my story of how I was introduced to domestic discipline, how it made me a better woman, how it changed my life and how I came to enjoy it. I had a strong urge to share my experiences with someone and I chose you, dear readers. I am 34 years old and until about a year ago I really was not enjoying my life.

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The three-day shoot for the lingerie catalog had been completed, and Monica was able to take the day off and do some shopping in Beverly Hills and Hollywood. Life as a young lingerie model had been good to her, and Monica's success at it had enabled her to buy a small but very cozy beach cottage in Malibu. Everyday she thanked the gods for that perfect body of hers, for those stunning good looks.

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My jaw was hanging wide open in disbelief as I set the phone down. "Oh my." I thought to myself. "I've got to share this with someone. My mind was racing through an internal address book trying to figure out who would be the safest person to share the juiciest gossip I had ever heard from the actual horse's mouth in my life.

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It was Friday night and Mark was enjoying some quiet time and a pleasingly sweet wine. Many thoughts crossed his mind but they were only momentary flights of fancy. He poured another glass of wine, and went to the computer to see if he had received a note from Kimberly.

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Almost two months passed before my husband Steve and I had any appreciable amount of time alone since his business trip to Las Vegas. We have been married for years, but just last year, we discovered his love of panties and other sexy pieces of women's lingerie. Yes, he loves it when I dress up in a little babydoll and matching panties, but what really turns him on is when I turn the tables and dress him up the same sort of skimpy lingerie.

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First kiss, first fuck, first this, first that. They say you never forget your first time. Firsts create memorable imprints that often remain with us forever. Whether you lull in the warm glow of your embellished memory of that first time, like I'm doing here, or cringe in embarrassment at the fiasco is not the point.

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1 There is something about heat that only we northern Celts can fully appreciate. I hadn't been abroad since my childhood, and the minute I stepped off the plane I was consumed by a bright heat rising from the Cretan rocks that forced me to slow down and take in the quiet beauty of the place.

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Crime was my bread and butter, but I had never experienced it firsthand. No one had even picked my pocket before, I had always been safe and sheltered from the bad side of human existence. I was protected from the criminals I represented by burglar alarms and neighbourhood watch. I really, really couldn't complain.

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As always, my heart raced as the time for my session approached. Time always passes so slowly when I'm in the waiting room. Even three minutes is a long time. I wanted to be in there with Holly. I started going to her for massages - the regular kind - for muscle tension. She always did a very good job, especially when I went for the longer sessions - an hour and a half to two hours. Now I regularly go for two hours.

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Part I Even for this business, the whole thing started out creepy. But to Eileen, it's part of the routine, ya know, so she asks the usual questions. Well, they're more statements than questions. "Naturally all you girls swallow, don't you?" Everybody hesitates, well, nearly everybody, promptin' a frown. But then everybody nods and Eileen's face brightens.

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