Your erotic stories

The door opened before the third knock. She must have been standing there waiting. The thought warms me as I look into her pale cream face. Her skin is smooth and spotless except for the tiny freckle under her left eye. Liquid aquamarine eyes hold my gaze as my fingers brush softly up her defined cheek bone. I drag my fingers through her silky smooth onyx hair and cup the back of her head in my hand.

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To call the private studio of the Dominatrix a dungeon would, for the fortunate, earn only her contempt. Eschewing the contrivances of male sadomasochistic fantasies, the walls were painted a passionless shade of gray-green, the oak floor polished to the luster of ancient gold, and the sole window decorated with an embroidered ivory curtain, now closed.

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The clatter of high heels on tile was like a siren to Michelle Lord. She tidied her station and closed the file she'd been working on and pushed away from the desk. Tanya, the secretary one desk over, cupped her hand over the phone receiver and said, "Honey, when she snaps, you don't have to say how high."

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Graphic lesbian sex, questionable consent, and...well...blood-drinking. Also more than likely entirely derivative, albeit subconsciously. If any of that disturbs you, please skip this one. Comments welcome!

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Victoria checked the bathroom to make sure that she had not left anything behind; she closed her carry-all and put the box her Mistress had sent her the day before in her hand luggage. She was more than ready to go home. The raven-haired Assistant District Attorney had been asked to present a panel at the annual Conference of Women in Law Enforcement in Chicago.

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The place is not what I expected. The atmosphere is bright, glitzy, with an overall techno feel that seems almost cold. I had expected something warmer, more ... nurturing, feminine, I guess, from a place that caters exclusively to women. I wonder if this appeals to the butch types, and then laugh at myself for indulging in stereotypes. What do I know, anyway - it's my first time in a "girl bar".

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Lara had just dropped off her two daughters at school but, instead of turning around and going back home, she waited at the school gates with the other parents. Today was the end of term school party and the parents had been invited to attend a short concert before the party began. Lara noticed that some of the older schoolgirls were still walking in after the bell for the start of class and wondered if they would be punished for being late as some of her classmates had been when she attended this very same school.

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Sandra sat at her desk and read the email over again. "My dear Sandra, I had such a good time with you last night that I wanted to send you a little thank you note. Your company was wonderful, and well, after, well, I have to say that I have never been with such a kinky, and generous woman before. You are truly amazing....... Leanne."

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Her throat was burning and she found it hard to breathe. Her knees were aching from supporting her entire weight for too long on the cold tile floor. These pains were tolerable, minor even, compared to the humiliation that she had just experienced and even more painful still was knowing that she was about to endure an ever greater embarrassment.

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Nicole rang Fiona's doorbell with genuine trepidation. Her heart was pounding because she was there to have a long time fantasy made real at last. She had always, for as many of her twenty-four years as she could remember, harboured a vague bi-curiosity and a carefully hidden urge to be submissive. Her submissive tendencies were real enough, she secretly longed to be disciplined and to be made to do things against her will, but she wasn't so sure about her hankering to go to bed with a woman.

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