Your erotic stories

"Are you almost finished down there? The top half still needs your attention." He slapped the crop across her bare ass at medium strength, a simple emphasis to finish her task and move on to the next. She hung the last ornament on the lower half of the tree, crawling around on her hands and knees, naked save for her purple 5'' heels, matching purple thigh highs and string bikini.

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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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She was excited to see him, beyond eager as she stood waiting for him to answer the large wood door. She tried very hard to calm her breathing to slow her heart down and just relax. She concentrated on her breaths as she heard the footsteps moving towards the door. As the handle turned she held her breath, letting it out very slowly as she tugged the hem of her tight white dress down. She stood there frozen, she waited until he said hello before letting her eyes meet his.

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This story was from a dark corner of my mind that DreamWeaverAz helped me write. I am not that good at reacting as a Dominant would. This is a story warning the wanna-bes out there. A true Master goes beyond the kink. "Three fingers, teasing softly, not entering but lingering, the middle finger pushing lightly wanting to enter, mmm how wet you are."

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She reaches up & turns the radio a little bit louder. Dipping her hands back into the soapy water she goes back to washing the dishes. Her body sways as she dances & sings along with the music. He stops in the doorway, silently watching her as she moves. Looking her over he smiles, completely nude save the silver collar around her neck & the leather ankle cuffs. She has grown accustomed to being naked, even come to like it.

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The identity of the man who purchased the mansion on the hill that rose above any landmarks for a mile around was a mystery to every resident of Langley Street, the street that led motorists and pedestrians alike to the private estate and the foot of its sweeping front drive. As much as rumor could provide, the new owner was a young man in his early twenties, obviously a man who had recently come into good fortune, either by his own merit or by luck.

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I love touching my pussy. I love the feeling of my most personal effect in my hand. I love bringing myself to orgasm by playing with my pussy. I love the feeling of being in charge of my own happiness. I love feeling my silken gift at my fingertips, and the feeling of intimacy that it provides for me. I've also had to learn to love all of those things. I've come to love them over the last several years, as masturbation is my only true sexual outlet right now.

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I stood there quietly waiting for him to appear. The stares from the passing airport guests were easy to feel and I did my best to ignore them. It was hard. I admit that; it still is hard to recall the lewd looks and the disgusted glares that washed over me from people I didn't know. Funny, how a person wishes to be liked by even those they will probably never encounter again.

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Every time the door opened, I sat straight up and looked in anticipation of you. Finally just before closing time, you came in. You look at me expressionlessly and push the lock on the door closed before making your way to me. I fumble on my desk for the book I was so anxious to show you. I stand up as you get closer and start to remove my glasses. "Leave them on!" you bark out as you grab my arm tightly.

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Zosimos felt the whip crack down on his back once more. He screeched in agony and was met with only more blows for comfort. He knew he wasn't supposed to make a sound but by the 20th strike he couldn't help it. His brutal master continued to beat him until all that was left was the comforting dark.

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