Your erotic stories

Doctor Charlotte Preston sat in her dark grey wingback chair and quietly tapped her pen against her folio papers as her client rattled on about his latest setbacks, as he saw them. She had been trying to concentrate all day with little success, Jackson was coming in for his appointment right after lunch and she could barely contain herself.

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She stands there completely nude, holding the wide black leather collar between her breasts. The buckle is a heavy gauge steel as is the large cold ring affixed to its front which dangles down toward her smooth shaved groin. Her eyes are closed and she can smell the leather mixed with her own scent from the last time she wore this collar several days earlier.

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The dictionary defines Valentine- a sweetheart chosen or complimented on Valentine's Day. I'm not sentimental or for that matter sensitive. At least, that is what I've often been told. You are so closed off! Unreachable! I disagree. I happen to have had a perfectly good reason for keeping my heart locked up. The problem, in my opinion, was with the people who never tried to slip by the barriers.

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Kathy stood for a moment, looking around her, all her senses alert. Her ears open to the crunch, crunch sound, maybe a hint of his manly smell, a glimpse of his black coat. She had been here for over an hour, time had dragged and now she was buzzing to see ' the man'. That's all she knew about him, a man who roamed the woods as eloquently as she did.

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"That's my good girl," You praise me as you stroke my hair and pull it away from my neck and face. I am kneeling naked at your feet and you are fully clothed. You fasten the buckle on the collar you bought for me. The lining is soft, but the hard, strong intent to control me is inherent in the leather and silver buckled design. I look into your eyes with complete trust as you test the ring at the front of the collar, onto which you will fasten a leash.

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Elizabeth stood fully naked, her full, supple breasts and large areolas silhouetted against the candlelight. Her body was aching for her fingers to return to her wetness, but she chose to deny herself for just a bit. On the bed lay the object of her attention. It was completely black yet it glistened in the flickering light. Slowly, gracefully, she slipped it on, pulling it as tight as she could manage. She loved this one, it fit perfectly.

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I stand and watch her walk toward me. Her fingers are cool and dry as she places the collar around my neck, nimble as they buckle it in the back, the leather touching my skin all the way around, not tight, only touching. I feel her breath stir my hair. A snort of laughter escapes me and I stifle it quickly. She pauses, her hands still on the buckle, and leans around to look at my face. "Yes?" she inquires, lifting an eyebrow, that same slight half-smile barely curving her perfect dark lipsticked lips.

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"You like it that way, baby? You been keeping secrets from your man?" I hear your words from the hall, where you stand, having pushed open our bedroom door. I left it a bit ajar when I lay down, knowing you were at work, never dreaming you'd come home early and catch me at my afternoon play. Or did I?

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When I woke up, I panicked, almost choked on the collar around my throat. The leather dug into my windpipe as I jerked on the cold cement floor, hurting my shoulders and arms. My hands were cuffed behind my back, my naked body pressed to the floor sideways, as my legs, which were free, kicked wildly in a desperate attempt to get loose. I let out a feral scream, almost choking again on the thick leather around my neck.

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My new tenant is such a joy to have around. Take right now, for instance. This is my day off and as I write this story he is under my desk curled up keeping my feet warm like a good housecat. Later, he'll help me get ready for my date. Then, if and when I make it back, he'll be waiting to take care of all my illicit desires.

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