I grabbed my coat and hustled out of the hotel room I had called my home for the last five months. I was running late and new that my trainer Dave hated tardiness. We were meeting to discuss the last week of my training before I finally got placed in my permanent position as a mid level manager. Dave wanted to meet at a bar and grill on the south side of town that had great food and a quiet comfortable ambiance. The problem was that this restaurant was on the other side of the city and there was no way I was going to make it before seven.
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He was waiting for me when I came home from work that Friday. As I stepped through the door and saw the leather collar in his hands, my heart began to pound. Dropping my bag to the ground, I immediately went to my knees, casting my gaze down demurely. My hands trembled with excitement as I took the collar from him and fastened it snugly around my neck.
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"...When you greet me at your door I want you to be wearing your dildo-pants. Oh, and wear them under your tightest pair of jeans. I'm taking you out tonight, and yes; I do want you wearing them out in public. I'll see you in a bit," I said, and then hung up without giving her a chance to respond.
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When you're a Villain, there are certain things you sign up for.
The risk of arrest, the risk of getting shot by police, the risk of getting hunted and severely beaten up by heroes. The risk of what happens when your secret identity is uncovered.
The risk of other Villains hunting you for their own ends.
Oh yes, don't believe that only Heroines get hunted, trapped and put through slave training by Villains. Villains get it worse.
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An icy wind stung Amy's cheeks as she ran down a tree lined avenue under an overcast November sky. Her breath puffed rhythmically in front of her as her feet pounded the pavement.
Only another three miles to go, she thought, rather morosely, to herself. Today was one of those days she just wanted to sit on the couch, snuggled in a blanket with a cup of hot chocolate, not freezing her ass off training for a half marathon.
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Recently, while preparing vanilla icing for a tray of cooling cinnamon buns, I heard Todd yell from the bathroom.
"Gloria, I haven't got a towel!" It prompted my memory: I'd washed them earlier and had forgotten to replace them. However, there were plenty in the hallway.
"Linen cupboard," I called back. He thudded down the passageway naked and wet. Hot, I thought.
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As a newly appointed detective assigned to a special police operation Georgina was less effective than the effect she had on men, which was electric. It wasn't just a pair of long legs or the tiny waist emphasizing large breasts, it was more than that, it was the innocent look upon her face when listening to them. She had a way of tilting her head to one side looking intently into a mans eyes as though he were the only man in the world and what he had to say was important. Sitting in his car with her Sergeant, Angelo was getting the full treatment.
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My sister Kate had introduced me to the wonderful world of group sex, one in which my incredible endowments were tested to their limits. I had surpassed all expectations, being able to pleasure five horny teenage beauties several times each in the space of a few hours. My tireless monster cock had unloaded plentiful loads of sweet cream onto their gorgeous bodies.
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