Your erotic stories

Gaven waltzed through the room secure in his roman gladiator costume. Standing at a powerfully built 6'2", he commanded the attention of every lady in the room as well as over half the men, but each time he met another Dom's gaze, he lowered his eyes as expected of a Sub.

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As he sipped his gin and tonic he realised he had mixed it too strong. A little dutch courage was a godsend on nights like this, but he had to keep his wits about him. He dragged his eyes away from the muted television to his watch. Fifteen minutes had passed. He thought a moment, and decided she could wait a little longer.

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My cell phone buzzed, making me jump. My first thought was that Megan was calling me, calling me to apologize, calling to ask me to forgive her. Forgive her for screwing me over and kicking me to the curb like a dog. I'd been dozing in the old, worn recliner in my darkened living room. The TV was on, and the baseball game I'd been watching was over now.

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Honey, you really need to blow off some steam." Those words, coming from my wife of three months, are seared into my memory, no less so than if she would have branded me. Like any watershed moment in a person's life memories come fast and easy, some good, some not so good and some are a combination. The words came fifteen years ago today, while I was still a young attorney fresh out of law school and climbing my way up the corporate ladder.

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"Silas!" Instinct took over. Silas Oswald dropped to his knees, taking cover behind the waist high bar that extended along the length of the Tesla-Coil Tavern. The movement was futile; Mistress Lavinia had already seen him and wasn't likely to forgive his disobedience anytime in the near future.

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For the last five months, Stephanie and I have continued seeing each other outside of the office. I have tried to convince her to see another dentist; however, she refuses. Our relationship has moved beyond just the sexual. Nonetheless, we really don't go out and about in the town we live. We have gone on weekend getaways and enjoyed many evenings at my home.

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You greet me with a nod and a glance. I know I have to obey your instructions and walk into your room silently. I stand there as you walked around me, touching my clothes, a single finger tracing my form. Standing face to face, you grab the collar of my shirt and, expressionless, you rip it open and shred it from my body.

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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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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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It is Saturday, mid-morning. My cellphone rings, I pick it up and see that it is my answering service. I take the call. "Yes, speaking...What are the symptoms?"...looking for a pen and paper. "What is her number?...OK. Thanks." I jot down the number. "Stephanie! What have I gotten myself into now?" I say to myself.

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