Your erotic stories

He obeyed so well. It was one of her favorite things about him. Her other favorite thing about him? The way he disobeyed. Tonight she'd push him to his limits and test his devotion. She had to. If he succeeded, she would collar him. She'd searched for weeks for his collar, the one that would fit him perfectly. One that fit them perfectly. It was black leather, dark, soft and supple.

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Feeling that deep thrill, that slow burn that seems to consume, that long deep obsession with being worshiped. I have him on his knees now, he is complacent, docile....he is submissive. It was not always this way. We began with a completely old fashioned relationship, with no power exchange. We were blind to the Ecstasy of submission, innocent of the line between pleasure and pain.

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Going through emails was normally quite tedious when you owned a website. Joseph's website, however, was a niche site that only attracted specific viewers, so the emails he received were very specific, and much more interesting.

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If time could be recognized, then we would have no need for clocks or calendars. These things are metres set against a background of haze and dream. The truth of time is that we live it. We breathe in moments and release seconds to the atmosphere where they bound and prance, teasing us before disappearing completely. They taunt us with their ephemerity.

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Jenna drove as fast as she dared. The wreck on the bridge had caused a stand still in traffic for thirty minutes and when it had started to move it was at a snail's pace. She was fifteen minutes late. Jared would be displeased. He'd told her to be home no later than six-thirty. She left the packages in the car and went straight inside. "You are late."

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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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Brooke was a wild child and she grew up to be a wild woman. Brooke was a blonde haired green eyed beauty. She had grown up with money and had been spoiled rotten. She had rebelled and done drugs, got tattoos and multiple piercings much to her parents' dismay. She loved to experiment sexually and if she enjoyed the experience she would try it on friends and lovers. Brooke had a body that both men and women enjoyed. She worked out regularly to keep her body tight and fit. She had a sweet ass and an ample bosom.

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In the year 1008 as reckoned in Rome on the Julian Calendar, Brother Cyryl Procopius was given a writ of Accession to take over the Parish of St. Adelbert in the Polish town of Virlun at the edge of the God-forsaken Wood of Mldawa. It was well known that the world ended at the Bug river, and that the Woods of Mldawa were the beginning of the Great Wilderness that surrounded the realm of Blessed Christendom, a place where Satan and his minions held sway out of the reach of God and his all his angels;

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By the time our second meeting ended, I had decided two things. First, my Master was very, very good at what he did to me. And second, there was no way I could wait until Christmas for our next visit. Almost a month had passed since our second "date." I had been teased, pleased, fucked, and damn well tortured during our short time together. Even though he had to leave early, we kept in touch over the phone. His contact was addicting;

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At 30, the peak of my female hormones screaming at me to do something with them other than finger my softest parts, I found myself still alone. I was afraid I wasn't beautiful enough, yet every time I looked in the mirror (other than on fat days) I thought I looked pretty good. Sexy, even. Long dark hair, pretty eyes, and a nice (though not perfect) line of curves that complimented the mild tan of my skin.

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