Your erotic stories

He wondered if this would be the day as he lay there and let her strap him down to the table. She sat down next to him when she was done, pulling a small table next to her. Silently she traced her nails across his skin. Stopping occasionally to tweak his nipples. After a few minutes she stopped and broke the silence. "Shall we begin?" "Yes. Please Mistress, please." His eyes were fixed upon her. Rarely though would she ever look him in the eye.

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I arrive at Mistress's at the appointed hour. I brush lint off my navy blue suit. As I straighten my red tie I feel the black leather collar under my shirt. The small lock is positioned directly behind the knot in my tie.

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This is a tale of the best humiliation-pain-cum slut I have ever met.. Her name is Peggy Sanford, and she is by far the most willing little bitch it has been my pleasure to use. We met on the net, and soon enough I had her under my thumb. Peggy came to me dressed as instructed: in mini, heels, garter belt and stockings (barely covered by the skirt) and a tight, thin top. As I let her in the door, I instruct her to turn so I can inspect her body.

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It'd been storming outside for what seemed like days. Thankfully, my Dom and I had been well prepared -- we knew what was coming, so we stocked up on movies and groceries. Personally, I love nights like this, when the snow is falling and the world outside looks crystallized and beautiful. I love it even more when I can stay inside with friends or family and spend time together, warm and snug inside away from the chill.

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I lay on the bed, naked, spread, bound at three corners. Only my right arm is free, holding in a numb hand my vibrator, waiting. Finally you come to me, and sitting down, your weight dips the bed, creating a well of gravity that I can feel, pulling my helpless body towards you.

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Molly cocked an eyebrow at her husband, her expression showing a mixture of amusement and concern. "Hank, are you sure you want me to do this?" She stood in their bedroom, fully dressed, looking subtly sexy in her suit and glasses as she stood over her husband. Her husband, nude and laying on the bed nodded. He was blushing a little, but his cock was rock hard and twitching with excitement. "Yes. Please. I know it sounds nuts, but I really want to try this."

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When she came down to greet me at the lobby of her dorm building, nobody -- not the security guards nor the other students nor the people passing by on the streets -- could have guessed what was going on. I was in a suit, she in a sexy (but not slinky) red dress that made the red in her hair pop. They'd have thought we were prepared for a classy night on the town (as classy as college students could afford, I suppose). If they had been paying close enough attention to her knowing smirk and my short, fearful breaths, they would probably have known something else was going on.

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As customary he was naked and blindfolded. Naked save for his chastity device and the elastic vibrating cock ring behind it. The only difference to the other times he was prepared to worship her womanhood with his tongue was that this time he was kneeling in the living room and not in the not bedroom. His aching, caged cock tingled in anticipation, as it did every time. The soft, buzzing reverberated through his groin.

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She was nestled up next to him tightly when he woke up. She enjoyed his warm embrace while she slept, but it was pure torture for him. His cock was harder than ever and ready to cum. He fought off the urge to hump her as she slept. He knew better. With every breath he took in the scent of her. He struggled desperately as his pent up sexuality fought for control and, of course, release. He knew she was a light sleeper and she expected him to be there when she woke up on his days off. He wondered how many hours he would have to lay here aching and struggling with his urges. Getting hard, going soft and then getting hard again. Over and over.

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Now. I stand under the needling hot spray until the water starts to cool, and shut it off, and push the wide glass door open to release billows of steam. Drip and splash across the wide marble floor and wipe a clear circle on the mirror with a thick white towel. Behind me the sun is trying, and failing, to pierce the overcast. Not likely in February.

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