Your erotic stories

She passed Fifth Street and checked her watch, right on schedule and thankfully the crossing light was on her side this morning so she eased across the intersection without having to stop. Music from her IPod spurred her on as she rounded the corner on Jackson Avenue, in the home stretch now. The warm early May morning sun at her back, she could see the entrance to the building at the end of the city block and urged herself to push a little harder.

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I guess I should start with a little history. I was born in the late 60's. My dad was a United States Marine. I had a fairly average childhood, went to college, and joined the corps as soon as I graduated. Shortly after I joined the corps dad and mom came to visit. They had some news. Mom was pregnant. Soon after she had my twin sisters Rose and Lily. Being so much older and being on active duty I didn't get to spend much time with my sisters as they grew. Time past and I was doing well in my career.

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CRACK.........CRACK..........CRACK....... The sound of the paddle hitting against flesh echoes in your bedroom. Again and again, you use the wooden paddle to smack the bare ass of the man lying across your bed. "Do you like that, slave? Do you want more?" "Yes, Mistress, oh yes" "Well, unfortunately, it's time for you to go to work. Maybe if you're good, I'll give you a little more tonight."

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"Thank god that's over," said Liz as we tidied away the presentation material. "Hey, you were great," I said. "Never missed a beat." And she hadn't. Liz Morton, from head office. Fortyish, maybe ten or twelve years older than me, but slim and attractive in her tailored suit. She smiled. "Nor did you, on the technical queries."

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They had a long-running game that they always played. It was called "Trust Me?" The rules were simple, really. They took turns, Stan having total control over Jackie for a weekend, followed by his total submission to Jackie on the following weekend. There was to be nothing that one couldn't do, should he or she desire it. There were no safe words, no refusals allowed. It was to be a sort of affirmation of trust and love each and every week. If one didn't really like what was transpiring, it was to be discussed later, after the weekend was over.

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The predicted storm for the weekend came in earlier than expected. As Beth ran toward her apartment she got caught in the heavy torrent of freezing rain. She was relieved to have the week behind her and anticipated a boring weekend alone and mostly stuck at home with all the bad weather that was coming her way. The forecast was for continued stormy weather over the weekend.

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Several months after I had parted from Jeff and a few weeks after my experience with Lionel (recounted in Chapter 15) three things happened virtually simultaneously. Firstly my wife, in a regular phone call with our daughter, told her that her lover was ill and being taken to hospital. I was not sorry for him, indeed I hoped that he would soon be dead, but I was sorry to think of the anxiety it would cause her. The second thing that happened gave me a shock.

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It was hot as hell, and I still had three more lawns to mow. It was the drawback to making most of my summer money doing yardwork. Graduation was only a few weeks behind me, and college and its expenses loomed ominously over my head. Fortunately, I was going to a local school, but I still had a commute, and books were going to kill me. Anyhow, I'd started early that morning, as soon as the dew was out of the grass, but after two yards already, it was just after noon and the sun pounded down.

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The deadline was next week. Alex needed a reasonably good first draft into the committee by then or his tenure would definitely be in jeopardy. His academic career depended upon pulling this off and he wasn't sure it was possible. The scholarly work is solid. I'm sure of that, he thought. What is missing is proof that the ancient cults have relevance in today's psyche. Furthermore, I am the last person on earth capable of following through on the practical research. Why do I think I can find it here?

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The atmosphere was amazing. I had never seen so beautiful a Mistress with such submissive male slaves as we had tonight. The performance in the under-ground club was electric as the Mistress showed us how devoted her sluts were. I must admit that watching them was fascinating, almost like seeing a male image of myself as they craved the pain and humiliation she dished out. One soft stroke of her hand against their skin, one quiet word of praise. made it all worthwhile to them. But they took so much; I was completely in awe of them.

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