tagBDSMCorrecting Infractions

Correcting Infractions

Before he leaves for work that day, and after they have made love for most of the morning, he issues instructions to her, reminding her that he expects her to strictly comply with his wishes. He tells her that when he comes home, he expects her to be waiting for him kneeling inside the doorway, collar and leash in hand offered to him, her red corset on her body, high-heeled shoes on her feet, hair pulled up off her neck, his favourite perfume dabbed behind her ears, on her wrists and neck. Further, as is the requirement expected of her at all times, she is to be freshly shaved so that her pussy is completely smooth and hairless, soft to his touch.

Prior to greeting him in that way, she is to ensure that the toy bag is organised to his liking and that the room is cleaned and put in good order. All items that are not housed in the bag are to be arranged in their rightful place, either on the shelves allocated to them, or hung neatly on the wall.

So full of love for him, she misses the steely look in his eyes as she dreamily answers, "yes Master, I will".

He replies with a short "okay", before kissing her, telling her that he loves her and that he will be home at his usual time, reminding her once more to follow his instructions to the letter.

He leaves for work after their usual drawn out goodbyes and she waves to him as he goes. Once alone, she decides to go on line for a while and chat to her friends. Long hours pass without her realising and in a mild panic she realises that she still has laundry to do, a bed to make, dishes to wash and dinner to cook for her Master, along with the general tidy up she has included in her daily routine.

Unfortunately, she also realises that she is now very tired, their long hours of lovemaking and fewer hours of sleep making her feel very drowsy. She decides that she really needs a nap if she is to be fresh when her Master returns home, so lies down on their bed for an hour. Or so she thought.

Slowly waking from a delicious sleep, a smile touching her lips as she thinks about what the night has in store for her, she rolls over to glance at the clock. With a rude shock she sits upright as she sees that her short nap was in fact a 4 hour sleep.

With the words "oh no, oh no", she quickly jumps out of bed, stumbling as she runs out into the living room to check the other clock, hoping against hope that the one in the bedroom was wrong. Unfortunately, for her, neither of the clocks are wrong and she sees that its close to midnight and she has done none of the chores, let alone followed any of his instructions.

She tries to calm herself down, mentally checking off the most important chores that must be done, relegating the laundry for tomorrow. She hurriedly takes out pots and pans and with trembling fingers, begins to prepare his evening meal. Once the meal is established and placed in the oven, she does the dishes, breaking a glass in her anxiety, giving her something else to deal with. After the kitchen is passably in order, she turns to tidying up the living room then sweeps the floor, her eyes glancing at the clock, watching in horror as the minutes tick away seemingly like seconds.

She runs to the bedroom and hurriedly makes their bed, picking up their clothes strewn about the floor then tosses them into the laundry basket to be dealt with tomorrow. Smelling something burning, she rushes into the kitchen and opening the oven door can see that the dinner has spilled over in the oven and tries to clean up the liquid as best she can, wondering for the millionth time why she didn't set the alarm before going to sleep.

She runs to the playroom, her eyes taking in the disarray that greets her, remembering that it was to be neat and orderly as he requested, her horror peaking as she once more looks at the clock ticking away mercilessly. Picking up the items as she goes, she stuffs some of them into the bag, forgetting exactly how and where they should be placed. She fastens the zippers, knowing full well that she would be in major trouble when he unzipped it but silently praying that he would be lenient with her. Hanging up some of the items on the wall, she then quickly places the remainder on the shelves before running to the closet in search of the corset.

Did he say red or did he say white, is it the red one or the white one, she asks herself over and over again. In her anxiety, she just can't remember and closes her eyes in order to make her selection. Taking out the red corset, she lays it on the bed before running into the kitchen to check on the dinner once more. Yelping when her eyes automatically look at the clock once more and noting that it was now almost 2am and that he would be home very soon, she races to the bathroom and turns on the shower.

Standing under the hot water, she feels her body relaxing for the first time in hours, the tension slowly seeping out. In almost a trance, she washes her hair then soaps her body, stiffening when she realises that she has yet to shave her under-arms and legs. Hurriedly swiping the razor over these parts of her body, she rinses the lather from her hair and turning off the shower, dries herself quickly.

She dries her hair as speedily as she can, knowing that she looks as though she had just gotten out of bed. She runs back to the bedroom and with fumbling fingers pours her body into the red corset, knowing that he will tighten the laces to his liking when he gets home. All of a sudden she remembers he wants her clad in high-heels and she quickly slips her feet into her shoes, leaving the straps around her ankles undone. Quickly dabbing some perfume behind her ears on her way to the doorway, she barely has time to kneel down as she sees the knob turning and he stands in front of her.

Breathing heavily from her exertions of the past two hours, she is conscious of his eyes taking her in, widening at first, then looking at her in disbelief. He walks into the room before quietly shutting the door behind him, not saying a word. She knows that he is mentally thinking of what he is going to say when he eventually speaks, and she is suddenly overcome by the feeling of dread, knowing that she has failed to meet his expectations stated to her some long hours earlier. She cringes with the knowledge that she has let him down and opens her mouth to speak.

The words she is about to utter die on her lips when he very quietly says, "I don't want to hear your excuses, I've told you before that your excuses will not be tolerated. I gave you some very simple, explicit instructions for you to follow before I left for work, and I am very disappointed that you have not followed them. You know you will be disciplined for your disobedience, and that's final. No more excuses, don't say another word".

She is silenced completely by the sadness she sees in his eyes as he speaks, and feeling very ashamed of herself can only look down, not being able to meet his look. He detests it when his submissive looks away from him and he tells her so, forcing her to look at him once more. By now, she is quietly crying, unable to control her emotions, angry at herself for disappointing her Master in this way, hating herself for her lack of self-discipline.

After long moments, and with a smile on his lips, he tells her that at least she remembered to wear the red corset, so that was something. Inwardly sighing with relief, his comment fills her with hope that he may have forgiven her somewhat. Those hopes are quickly dashed when he asks her why she is not kneeling with her collar and leash in her hands.

All she can do is quietly reply that she forgot to bring them out from the room with her, the confession making more tears spill from her eyes.

With a silent nod, he pulls her to her feet, kissing her hello, then pushing her gently towards the room tells her to go and do so now. As she takes the first few steps towards the room, the ankle straps of her shoes come undone as she had not buckled them, causing her feet to slip out. She hurriedly does the buckles up, not game to look at him, not wanting to see more disappointment mirrored in his eyes.

Walking as quickly as she can, she goes to the hook on the wall to see that the leash is not hanging from it as it should be. Luckily, she spots it on the shelf and grabbing it makes her way to the toy bag in search of her collar. She is not at all surprised when she is unable to find the collar in its rightful place, remembering how she hurriedly stuffed everything into the bag, zipping it up without sorting it out properly. After several agonising minutes, she finally sees it and removing the collar from the bag, does up the zip once more.

She returns to her Master who is waiting for her where she left him some minutes earlier and getting to her knees in front of him, presents the collar and leash. Taking the collar from her hands, he commands her to lift up her hair from her neck, which reminds her yet again of something else she has forgotten to do. Fastening the collar securely around her throat, he takes the leash from her hands and with a loud snap attaches it to the ring on her collar. With gentle pressure, he pulls the leash towards him, forcing her to rise to her feet, before leading her into the room until she is standing by the table, awaiting his next instruction.

He turns her around in order to do up the laces on the corset she wears, then changing his mind, tells her to undress until she is naked except for her shoes. She once more fumbles as she tries to quickly remove the corset, not wanting to annoy him any more than she has already. Once the corset is off her body, she stands before him wondering what he intends to do to her, knowing that she deserves everything he metes out when disciplining her for her infractions.

Asking her to bring the toy bag to him, he notes the guilty look on her face when she goes to do so. Not at all surprised to find the toy bag in complete disarray, he tells her that he has made a mental note of each and every infraction so far, and this is the next one to be added to the list.

After rummaging through the bag, he finally finds the cuffs for her wrists and without a word fastens them to each wrist before clipping them together behind her back. Thus immobilising her hands, he goes in search of the spreader bar, shaking his head when he finally locates it, not in its usual place. She stands quietly, looking downcast as he secures her ankles to the bar after moving her to the spot in the centre of the room which is allocated for the purposes of inspecting her body freely.

Once her feet are spread apart as widely as possible without causing her to lose balance, he is now ready to begin inspecting her body with both his eyes and hands. Looking deep into her eyes, his hands slowly move to her face, caressing there for a moment before beginning their journey down her body. Travelling downwards inch by inch, over the collar around her neck, his hands move slowly but sure towards her proffered breasts, thrust before him, made that way by her wrists bound behind her back. Once his fingers reach her erect nipples, he gently flicks their tips, before pulling on them sharply, making her cry out loud. He doesn't relent and continues to pinch and pull, until she moans quietly, loving the feel of his hands on her. Within moments she feels the tell-tale wetness forming between her legs, amazed yet again how the mere touch of his hands on her body has this power over her. Then again, a knowing look from him can also cause this, so she shouldn't be at all surprised.

His hands continue their way surely, touching her sides, until they rest on her hips before moving inwards, caressing the outer lips of her pussy before coming to rest at the juncture between her thighs. He murmurs softly, "I see you've forgotten to shave My pet, you know this is a major infraction, self-imposed by you".

She then speaks, saying, "I'm sorry Master, I forgot. I ran out of time because I slept longer than I intended".

He tells her to be quiet and reminds her again that he does not want to hear her excuses. She bites her tongue and says nothing, knowing that no matter what her reasons, her excuses will fall on deaf ears.

He speaks again, telling her that rather than the night of pleasure he had in store for her before he left for work the afternoon before, she would instead be disciplined as her behaviour left him in no doubt that she was in severe need of correction.

She knew he was right, as he always was, and felt great remorse at having let him down in this way, and tried to tell him so, but he wouldn't let her speak, instead telling her that they would talk about it afterwards, not now.

He then released her wrists from behind her, and after removing the shoes from her feet and the spreader bar between her ankles, leads her to the table, telling her to sit down. He once again rummaged in the toy bag and extricating the blindfold from within it, placed it over her eyes, leaving her in darkness. Once satisfied that she could not see anything at all with the blindfold on, he commands her to lie down and do nothing.

She does as she's bid and nervously waits for his next words and not knowing what he intends to do with her, contemplates her fate.

She hears him in the bathroom and then a minute later, her body jolts almost upright as he speaks quietly to her, his voice coming from right next to her. He asks her to lie down again and to be still and not move unless told to do so.

All she can reply is "yes Master", as she is again made aware of his displeasure.

Soon she hears the sound of him moving things around the room before he then lifts each of her legs in turn, placing them in the stirrups attached to the table. Once he is satisfied that they are placed correctly, he fastens the straps, trapping her ankles so that she cannot remove her legs from the stirrups. He then moves towards the head of the table, grasping her hands and pulling them above her head, he secures the cuffs together before attaching her wrists to the hook above the table, immobilising her hands. After that, she hears him release the catch at the side of the table, causing the lower part to collapse beneath her body, leaving her completely exposed from all angles from her bottom down, with only the top half of her body resting on the table.

Once standing between her legs, he moves the stirrups further to each side, stretching her legs apart, leaving her exposed pussy wide open. She cries out, asking him not to hurt her.

Even though she can't see him shake his head, she knows he does so as he tells her that he would never hurt her or cause her harm, that she should know this by now. She knows that what he says is true for he has never, ever harmed her in any way, that the only pain she has ever felt from his ministrations was one that turned into pleasure.

She can tell that he is hurt by her voicing her concerns and tries to appease him by telling him that she knows he wouldn't harm her in any way, and apologises to him once more.

He has had enough of listening to her apologies and tells her so, before asking her to open her mouth wide and swiftly placing the gag inside, silences her. Satisfied that all is as it should be, he once again moves to the place between her legs and without another word, proceeds to spread shaving cream on her pussy, ensuring that it is well and truly covered.

With a gasp she realises what he intends to do, and embarrassment floods her and she is thankful that he can't see the remorse in her eyes. He continues with his task and lifting the razor glides it over her pussy time and time again until he is satisfied that it is as soft and smooth as it should be, as she should have made sure it was in the first place.

Once finished, he cleans up any residue with a wet towel before dabbing away at any remaining moisture with a dry one. She hears him moving away from the table and when he returns she feels a cold wet substance against the opening of her arse, realising almost immediately that it is lubricant. His fingers delve into her opening, going deeper as it makes each thrust, coating the inside with the lubricant. Before she has time to enjoy his finger inside her, he stops and she then feels something large probing her hole. The tell-tale hardness of the butt plug leaves her gasping into her gag as he slowly but surely inserts it into her arse. She knows almost immediately that it is the larger one he is using and not the smaller one that she is more accustomed to.

He waits a short while in order to give her body time to adjust to the plug, asking her if she is okay.

She can only nod her head whilst she takes deep breaths to help with the unaccustomed fullness she now feels inside her. Once he is satisfied that she is indeed okay, he removes her wrists manacled to the hook above her, before freeing her legs from the stirrups, helping her to her feet so she is standing before him once more. Only then does her remove the lead from around her neck.

Taking her by the hand he moves her slowly to the centre of the room before once again securing her wrists together onto the hook hanging above her head. Once secured this way, he re-attaches the spreader bar to her ankles, spreading her feet widely apart. He then leaves her for a moment or two while he collects the other items he plans on using to discipline her.

She tries to take deep breaths, willing her body to relax around the butt plug, hoping that her body adjusts to the fullness quickly. She jerks as she feels his presence in front of her, knowing that something more will be happening to her body soon, and is not surprised when she hears the familiar click of the nipple clamps being attached to the ring hanging from her collar.

He sucks on her breasts, drawing each nipple out with his tongue until he feels them stiffen beneath his mouth. Replacing his mouth with his fingers, he pulls on each erect nipple before attaching the clamps firmly over them, hearing her muffled cry beneath her gag. Reaching out to the table nearby, he picks up a clothes pin and commences to attach it and the other eleven waiting their turn to her breasts, spaced at regular intervals around the clamps holding her nipples firmly in place.

She continues to cry beneath the gag, but he completes his task wordlessly until he is satisfied with the placement of the clothes pins. Her chest is heaving while she tries hard to cope with the fire in her breasts, caused by the clamps and the clothes pins.

Not giving her any time to relax, he attaches the remaining clamp hanging from her collar onto her clit, the fierce pain causing her to jerk and momentarily forget about the pain on her breasts. She tries desperately to breathe through the pain, wanting with all her heart not to disappoint him and just as importantly, not to disappoint herself. She steels herself to cope with all that he metes out to her tonight, she knows that she brought this upon herself and has only herself to blame.

After a few moments, she quietens somewhat, already entering the place where she feels no pain, not quite getting there just yet, but well on the way. The next thing she hears is the familiar whooshing sound, just before the paddle lands firmly onto the cheeks of her bottom, one after the other, relentlessly; the spreader bar on her ankles making it impossible for her dodge it, making it impossible for her to escape this fate. She loses count of the number of whacks reddening her cheeks, feeling only the fire the paddle leaves behind in its wake.

He doesn't stop until he believes she has had enough and before leaving her in the room on her own to think about her actions, or in this case, the lack of her actions, says to her "I want you to think about everything you have failed to complete for me tonight, think long and hard about them. In the same way, I want you to think about the lash of my belt across your back, arse and legs, because that's what I intend doing when I return. I want you to think about whether or not you will find my belt a laughing matter now as you've done before."

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"NO! Let me go! Please! You don't understand. I must! LET ME GO!"

He was fighting to hold on, because this girl was dead serious about jumping. No ordinary suicide attempt, this one. This wasn't his first experience with a suicide jumper by far, but normally you could talk people down and make them think twice about their decision. Not this time though. She was clearly beyond debating her decision and just wanted to get on with it. If he hadn't happened to be passing by just as she was climbing the railing, she would now be floating dead in the icy water deep below.

"Please miss! Whatever the problem is, this is NOT the solution," he panted desperately through a volley of kicks, punches and scratching nails.

The girl seemed totally lost in hysteria and impervious to reason. She wasn't powerfully built by any means – more on the skinny side really – but insanity may often grant us strength and agility beyond what would seem humanly possible. Despite being close to twice her weight he was losing ground in this fight.

During his time in the military Owen had extensive training in numerous ways of incapacitating an enemy, lethal as well as non-lethal, but he had never imagined using any of them against a civilian, let alone a young woman. But there was a human life on the line if he lost his grip, so it was no-brainer. His training took over and with a hold around her throat he applied a calculated amount of pressure to a specific point. Within seconds the struggling girl grew limp in his embrace and slipped into unconsciousness.

As he carried her to his car he was surprised of how light she felt. Extraordinarily beautiful too with long black hair, perfect milky white skin and the kind of body men would die or kill for. Could this really be the one they were hunting? And why the stubborn attempt at ending her own life? She looked like somebody who had everything going for her.

"Of course she could be sick," he thought to himself. "Sometimes you can't tell just by looking. Guess I'll have to ask her when she comes around."

Selene woke to the wonderful smell of freshly brewed coffee and for a moment her eyes were blinded by the bright overhead lights. As her sight gradually adapted she became aware that she was slouching in a reasonably comfortable couch of made of well-worn red imitation leather, like the ones that can be found in numerous diners all over the country.

She sat up and took in her surroundings. Yes, this was indeed a diner. Odd. How on earth did she end up here?

A tall man was making his way to her table carrying a tray. A quick assessment told her that he was in his early thirties, of powerful build, military-style buzz cut and she noticed that he moved with the relaxed ease of a well-trained person. Obviously a police officer or a soldier or some other kind of action man. He had a kind face though and beamed a nice smile at her with just a hint of crow's feet in the corners of his eyes. She liked him right away.

"About time you came around," he said. "Coffee is ready."

"Where are we?"

"In Joe's Diner two streets from the bridge where you attempted to go for a midnight swim. I'm Owen by the way."

"Nice to meet you Owen. I am Selene."

"GIVE US SOME PUSSY... SQUAWK!" a loud and hoarse voice sounded.

She jerked her head around, still a bit confused; then spotted a large bright green parrot in a birdcage at the end of the bar.

"Oh, that's Beauregard," Owen said apologetically. "As you can tell some of the guests have a pretty relaxed tone with him. I guess the lights woke him. I'll go shut him up."

"HAND ME THE GRUB JOE. NO SPITTING IN THE SOUP... SQUAWK!" Beauregard said happily and moved back and forth on his perch.

Owen grabbed large piece of black cloth from behind the counter and draped it over the cage. Before disappearing from view Beauregard had a few final words of wisdom for them:

... and then he fell quiet as his cage was covered in darkness.

Despite her situation Selene couldn't stop a giggle, "A charming feathered fellow I must say."

"Yeah Beau is quite a character," Owen agreed.

Then her mood grew somber again.

"We are all alone here Owen. Where are the other guests? Where is the staff?"

"The diner is closed Selene. You might not have noticed but its two hours past midnight. You've been sleeping for three hours straight since I brought you here. You want sugar in your coffee?"

"No thanks, just black please. If this place is closed, how can we be in here?"

"I work as a security guard for several local businesses, so I have a key. Don't worry - Joe wont mind. I usually take my breaks here."

She took her cup and drank almost half the content in one swig.

"You should not have stopped me you know," she murmured behind her napkin.

"Wanna tell me why you feel that way?"

"Trust me. You do not want to know."

"Listen," he said. "I ain't gonna push you into anything Selene. If you don't wanna tell, it's your business. But sometimes talking about stuff can help a person make sense of the chaos in the mind. And frankly I'm curious about you."

Selene regarded him quizzically.

"You do know a thing or two about emotional trauma, do you not? Soldier? Been in action?"

"Yes, yes and yes," he confirmed with a look of suppressed pain she couldn't quite decipher.

She decided not to go there. At least not yet. And to be fair Owen seemed nice and genuinely interested in helping her. He deserved the truth, if nothing else. Besides he was a stranger. She might never see him again, so there was no reason for pretense. No reputation to worry about. Maybe it was time to come clean to somebody.

Selene drew a deep breath.

"I have killed everybody I have ever loved or cared for," she said her eyes filling with tears. "I could not help it and it will happen again. The world is better off without me and I cannot bear the pain any longer. Oblivion is preferable to what I have now."

Whatever Owen had expected to hear, that wasn't it.

"Holy crap! Are you serious? How did that come about?"

"My... well... my orgasms... my orgasms are lethal."

He almost choked on his coffee.

"Say WHAT?"

"My orgasm kills people, ok? Now go right ahead and laugh!"

No he did not feel inclined to laugh. This woman was clearly deeply disturbed and ridiculing her beliefs, preposterous as they were, probably wasn't a good idea. He decided to play along with her psychosis for now.

"I ain't laughing Selene. You don't owe me an explanation and I ain't got no right to pry in your business. Sorry I asked, ok?"

"I am not making this up Owen. I am dead serious, pardon the pun. My orgasms are lethal for real!"

"But... how?"

"I do not know. Maybe my mother insulted an old gipsy and got cursed, maybe I am the devils daughter, maybe I fart poisonous gas too... who knows? I am not a scientist. It just happens, ok? I orgasm and everybody in the room die."

"So you are saying that you can't fuck a dude without killing the poor guy?"

"Oh I most certainly can..." she blushed "... f... make love to a man without endangering his life. Nothing ever happens to the person I have physical intercourse with. Apparently men are immune to the effect if they have their penis inside my vagina. Unless they wear a condom of course. Skin to skin contact is crucial."

Owen leaned back and took a sip of his coffee.

"That's quite a story Selene. You must realize how wacky it sounds to other people."

"To me it is perfectly normal. Something that I have lived with all my life. Or rather, ever since I became sexual around other people. When I lived alone and had my own room there was no problem and when I left for college and got a roommate things were fine in the beginning. I was a late bloomer, had never been with a boy and was very focused on my studies."

"Which was?" he enquired.

"Your studies. What did you wanna be?"

Selene smiled. This man was special indeed. He was actually interested in her as a person. She liked him better and better.

"A vet. I always wanted to work with animals."

"But I guess that didn't happen?"

"No it did not. My first killing sort of got in the way of that. Although at that time I did not know about my curse. One day a cute boy in my biochemistry class flirted with me, and later in bed I began touching myself while thinking of him. It had been a while so I reached orgasm in a few minutes. It was a powerful one too. I had to bite down on my comforter in order to refrain from screaming and alert my room mate."

She took a sip of coffee.

"As it turned out I need not have bothered. She was found dead in her bed the next morning. Heart failure. The time of death was estimated to have been about the time when I masturbated the evening before."

"And you figured it was your fault?"

"I knew for sure it was my fault. It is hard to explain Owen, but I felt her life-force flicker out when I orgasmed. Or at least I think I did. Keeping a cool head is not exactly part of having an orgasm..."

Selene blushed and looked down.

"... but in retrospect I am almost certain that I felt her die. And, god help me, it excited me. It increased the power of the sensation and the strength of my climax."

"Not quite sure I'm buying it," Owen said thoughtfully. "Experiencing the death of a friend at such a young age must be very traumatic for a young girl. Maybe your mind was attempting to rationalize something that didn't make any sense by creating a link between you doing something surreptitious and her dying. How did the school officials react to your theory?"

"I did not tell them of course. They offered me several free therapy sessions to help me deal with the loss, but I declined and took the rest of the semester off instead. The following year I transferred to a different college and did my best to forget."

She leaned back and stretched her neck.

"It went well for a time. Nobody knew about my past and I was very careful to only masturbate when I was alone. But then I met Ben. Sweet and gorgeous Ben."

Owen smiled at the dreamy tone in Selene's voice.

"God! Ben was such a great dancer. Rather unusual for a football player actually. They are mostly big and strong guys; more power than finesse. But let me tell you Owen; Ben had some serious moves. Of course we soon ended up in his room with our clothes off."

"Sound's like you were finally getting over your previous bad experience," Owen suggested.

"Yes, I suppose I had forgotten at that point. Or maybe simply talked myself into believing that it was all a tragic coincidence."

Selene's thoughts drifted back to her tale.

"Anyway, the night with Ben was my first time ever with a man and it was pure magic. Just like everything you read in romantic novels. We had candles and Barry White and everything. It did hurt a little in the beginning but Ben was a tender and patient lover and I had not had any sexual release for weeks. After a little while I felt the intense joy of orgasming from vaginal intercourse on my very first time. And my orgasm pulled him along so we almost came together. It was... just so perfect."

"And Ben was ok afterwards?"

"For a moment I was scared because he collapsed on top of me like a rag after his release. But then he began kissing me again. He was all right! I cannot tell you how relieved I was."

"There you go Selene. You broke the streak," Owen said smiling.

She continued as if she hadn't heard what he said.

"It turned out that Ben liked to go down on girls after he had ejaculated inside them..."

"A cream pie lover," Owen injected.

"To me it sounded like a very strange request, but at that moment I would have done anything for Ben. He could have asked me for a kidney and it would have been his."

Selene sighed.

"He kissed his way down my stomach, over my bush and down between my legs. I was completely spent after the sex but it was enjoyable never the less. He spread my labia..."

"Pussy lips. Sorry Selene, but you talk like a fucking gynecologist..."

"... pussy lips, and proceeded lick me. When he hit my clitoris it turned out to be much more than merely enjoyable. I was hyper sensitive after my orgasm and the sudden touch of his tongue on my naked nerves felt like flashes of electricity. I hardly had time to realize what was happening before my second orgasm crashed into me like a freight train. It was so powerful I lost myself for a while."

She closed her eyes for a second.

"It took several minutes before I was capable of coherent thought again. Ben was still between my legs and I reached down and ruffled his hair. His head just rolled limply to the side. I sat up in a state of panic."

Owen was silent.

"He didn't move. I kept shaking him and screaming for him to wake up, to not leave me. I guess I kinda lost it because the next thing I recall was a paramedic tending to me while a police officer was waiting in the background. I asked for Ben. The paramedic just shook his head."

"Ben had bought the farm?"

"Yes he was dead. Heart failure. My poor Ben. A wonderful guy who left a life that he loved long before his time because of me. A little piece of me died that day."

Selene hid her head in her hands a took a moment to compose herself.

"I was forced to realize that my worst fears were all true. For some reason my orgasm was lethal to everybody else in the room, except for the person having his pe... cock inside me. And the orgasms I had when causing somebody's death were immensely powerful, which of course made me feel even worse. I felt like I had robbed innocent people of their lives for my own pleasure. Something wonderful had turned into an ugly nightmare in my mind."

"That's fucked up Selene. I'm so sorry."

"I just wanted to go completely celibate, and for a while I did. But I am a very sexual person and it was an impossible situation. After waking up orgasming from an erotic dream I realized that I needed to come up with a different solution. I could not risk going off spontaneously like that. Somebody could have been near and gotten him or herself killed. I had to remain in total control at all times; even when sleeping."

"In control of your dreams? That was seriously your plan?"

"Not as impossible as it sounds Owen," Selene smiled despite her somber mood.

"I just had to keep myself sexually satisfied so I would not have naughty dreams anymore. And of course always ensure that I was alone when doing it. That worked fine for almost a year, until I met Dex."

"Another lover?"

"Very much so, yes. THE lover in fact. We were not sexual for months though, which lead to me getting more and more scared. Every kiss got me excited and I wanted him so bad. A few times I was afraid that I might orgasm just from making out with him and I realized that I needed to have him in a safe way before my body took control and caused another tragedy."

Owen nodded.

"So we made love. It was wonderful and nothing went wrong. I explained to Dex that the thought of a man putting his finger or tongue anywhere near my vag... pussy was disgusting to me. No foreplay; I only wanted vaginal sex. I knew that was the only way of keeping him safe."

"Sounds like you found a compromise then."

"Yes it worked for us. To be honest I missed foreplay a lot, but I simply could not risk it. Dex had no problem of course. He loved to be able to just climb on, plunge in and get started. What man would not?"

"Hey! Just for the record: Some of us men actually DO love to eat pussy."

"I know," Selene said. "But in general you guys get ready much faster than us girls. In any case it worked well for Dex and me. We made love every day, sometimes more than once, and I always felt satisfied. Over time our love grew and eventually we married. We were happy and I finally felt as if I had a future."

"I'm afraid I can almost guess what's coming."

"Trust me, you cannot Owen. Whatever terrible thing you imagine, the truth is much worse."

Owen said nothing. What could he possibly say to something like that?

"This Christmas we were invited to my parents house. Dex grew up in an orphanage and was alone apart from a sister he had not seen for years, so he was very excited by the prospect of having Christmas with a large family. Our six month old daughter Lori was still too small to appreciate most of the things happening around her, but my parents were crazy about her of course, so she got a lot of attention."

Owen could tell that she was setting up the scene for something bad.

"We were seated at the large table doing Christmas dinner when a loud crash sounded from the living room. My dad got up but before he could do anything four masked men armed with guns came running into the dining room. One of them – obviously the leader – told us to remain calm. They were going to rob us and leave. They weren't here to hurt anybody, but they would not hesitate to use extreme violence if we forced them to."

"Did you resist?"

"Nobody did. They claimed that they just waned our valuables, and stuff can be replaced. Nothing in the house was worth the risk of anybody's life, so we did what we were told and remained seated while two of them looted my parents home. The other two kept us under guard. I noticed that one of the men – the one that spoke – kept eyeing me."

"Which proves that he had good taste," Owen tried in a lame attempt at levity.

"Well I wished his tastes had gone in a different direction. But I could practically feel his desire and for reasons I still do not understand my body responded. I think he felt it too. This was evidently a predator - a man who was used to take what he wanted - and he had me at gunpoint. So I was not surprised when he told his partner cover for him while he had his way with me. I believe the expression he used was 'gonna bang that bitch'."

She grimaced.

"He pulled me out of my chair and brutally threw me on the floor. I was wearing a dress so he had easy access; only a set of panties to remove. I screamed and fought but he was strong and determined. I never stood a chance. In less that a minute he had his hands where only my husband was allowed and laughed when he felt my soaking wetness. My body wanted him badly and he knew it. I could only see his eyes, but they were wide with desire and raw need. At that point I still clinged to the hope that it would be over quickly, before something I beyond my control was set in motion."

"But then he unzipped and freed his... cock and I knew we were in serious trouble. It was the kind of cock that will send most women into orbit really fast."

"A huge cock?" Owen asked with fascination.

"Jesus Owen! You men are so focused on inches," Selene sighed. "No, it was actually about the same length as my husbands. But it was much wider and that is what truly counts. Having something go in deep is not exciting; it only hurts. But a cock that can really spread you out and make you feel totally filled will get you off quite efficiently."

"I assume you still fought back?"

"Did I ever! But it was an unfair fight. He taped my hands together behind my back and forced himself between my legs. The man must have been over two hundred pounds and I'm barely half that. There was little I could do. I watched that huge thing slowly but inexorably moving closer to my vag... pussy, and my fighting only seemed to excite him. The head of his cock was dark purple and clear liquid dripped from the tip. My body was screaming for it to impale me, but I was screaming for him to stop and let me go."

"What about your husband?"

"Poor Dex was taped to his chair and had a gun against the back of his head. Yet he was still yelling curses at them, as was my dad. They were both so brave, but the two other robbers had joined us so we now had a total of three armed men in the room. What could my family do beyond cursing?"

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Kinky Crush Fetish

Girls crushing everything

When madame Marissa realized that she did not have any more use for these decoration accessories, she chose to use them as her guinea pigs to try kinky crush fetish. Madame Marissa had a great time crushing and destroying the accessories using her boots. The mistress created a mess but she was not worried about it as she knew her slave would deal with it and clean up after her.

This mistress had invested a lot in cameras and she expected some good videos for her blog. But when they tried to check out the videos, they realized that it had not taken good videos. The mistress was so pissed that she chose to crush it and destroy it because it was proving more of a liability than an asset. She planned on buying better ones so as not to experience the same tragedy.

This mistress wanted to entertain herself as she was bored and there was no one else to entertain her. She loves her ass and she settled on using it to entertain herself. The mistress took out a toy she had in her house and she tried butt crushing it for fun to see what would happen. She had never done it before but she loved it as she pretended she was riding a dick.

Mistress Luna had never crushed with her sneakers before and today she had nothing better to do so she experimented with it. The mistress wore her new yellow sneakers and she used them to crush some items she had bought specifically for that purpose. The mistress noticed the differences from when she uses heels to crush but it was a good difference and she enjoyed the experience that she had.

Mistress Christin did not have anything to crush and she had to crush this old radio. She had been trying to avoid crushing it and she had no alternative but to crush it today and that is what she did. The mistress used boots to do it and she loved it as it was not an easy thing to crush. It gave her a challenge which she liked when crushing something.

This mistress was used to buying different things to crush. But she was broke today and she could not afford to do that. She felt like crushing something so bad so she looked around and luckily she found toy cars which she crushed and felt great. The mistress managed to pass time and to have fun at the same time like she had hoped. She also knew she had to be creative when she did not have the money to buy things to crush.

Princess Serena was bought flowers by this guy and she crushed them after he had left. They had gone for a date but he did not know that she did not like flowers. She tried to stay calm but once he had dropped her off, she crushed them and destroyed them. She wanted to see how things went before she told him. If things went fine, she would. If they did not, there was no need to.

Madame Marissa wanted to crush but she did not have anything to crush. She checked the entire house and she could only see gummy bears. She chose to crush them as she felt like crushing something and she did not want to go to the store to buy anything to crush. In addition, she had never crushed gummy bears before so she enjoyed crushing them and had fun doing it.

Goddess Giana wanted to feel what her slaves and other losers felt when she humiliated and dominated them by making them eat what she had crushed. So she crushed grapes with her heels and with her bare feet. Then she proceeded to try and eat them and to experience what her slaves and losers experienced. It was disgusting and for the first time she understood what they went through when she degraded them.

These mistresses were told that their kids had hosted a party without their permission. They rushed back to the house and they found out it was true. The angry mistresses chased everyone away and they crushed all the items that were in their house that the kids had bought for the party. They did not care who they belonged to. They crushed and destroyed them to teach them a lesson and for their own fun.

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The Ultimate Gift

The Ultimate Gift

Dani Diaz

An Exclusive Dad Crush Dani Diaz Scene

Dani forgets that today is Father’s Day, so her stepdad Johnny gets disappointed with her for not getting him a present. All of a sudden, Dani figures out what day is today, and she feels so bad that she wants to make it up to her stepdad. Johnny asks for a blowjob, the only way Dani’s mother could make him happy before leaving them. Dani is initially reluctant but soon discovers the pleasures of her stepdad’s cock. Later on, Dani goes to Johnny’s room for a second round. To convince him, she reminds her stepdad of a game they used to play when she was little, the perfect excuse for Johnny to fondle Dani’s gorgeous body and ultimately pound her juicy puss


Free Erotic Stories

SwingLifeStyle Free Erotic Stories are written and submitted by our members Sit back and enjoy "Surprise Part 2".

Surprise Part 2

"Tell me about it," I whispered. She stammered a bit as the event came back to her.

"My aunt was only ten years older than me. So we were pretty open with each other. She was always talking about how she never fucked a man with a dick under 10 inches. I never really believed her. I thought she was just trying to shock me," she said, her voice quivering a little.

I hissed lightly into her ear, taking in her delicious perfume.

"Hold my balls. Can you tell that they're shaved." She cupped my testicles hefting the weight of my scrotum. Getly her fingernails tracked the most tender part. My cock lept in response. Pre-cum was leaking on her forarm.

"Go-on." I said.

"Jesus. Even these are huge." She squeezed gently.

I moaned for effect as she continuued.

"I walked in on him. He just came out of the shower and was about to dry off. As he reached for a towel, I saw his dick hanging halfway to his knees. He looked up and saw me.

Then, he just stood there, looking straight at me."

"How old were you?"

"Twenty or twenty-one, I think. After a moment, I just walked out of the room."

"And you've regretted it to this day?"

"I don't know. The next night I heard my aunt in the next bedroom. He was fucking her. The sounds she made...I can still hear her. She would ask him to stop because he was so huge. But the bed kept creaking.

Now her hand was really pumping up and down the full length of my cock, slick from my juices.

"It was probably a game they played. Guys like to be complemented on their size."

"You might be right. She sounded like she was in pain. But she came so many times."

I released my slacks and let them fall to my knees, giving her full view of everything I have to offer.

"How big are you?"

End of Story


MySpace Lays Off 500 Employees”


Pisces - FOX 8 WVUE New Orleans


Young Sissy Ch. 01

Author's Note: This is a follow up to The Young Master series. You can start here if you aren't interested in Belle's misadventures as spoiled young man turned out by his own sissy slave and eventually enslaved by his step-father, but it does introduce a lot of characters you'll read about in this series.

I don't know how long I was under...days, weeks...who knows, maybe even months. Reality blurred with nightmares as I felt my flesh being cut into by cold scalpels and stuck with needles, filling me with horribly persuasive dreams of a beautiful new body. I tried to imagine myself as a man, just to see if I still could, but it was futile. Every dream I had featured me with bouncing breasts, an hourglass figure that told everyone when it was time to fuck me...which was all the time, and a face of an angel..or a succubus. I just became more and more alluring in my dreams...more fuckable, and to my surprise, I no longer considered that a bad thing. In the heady twilight between reality and dreams, I didn't have the capacity for self deception I'd relied on so doggedly as a man. I couldn't force myself to feel guilty for relishing the thought of being every a waking wet dream, even if I wasn't 100% sure when I was awake...

My favorite dream was The White Room. In it, I woke up in a room where the walls and floor were all painted a solid, textureless white. It reminded me of my secret place, the place I could hide when my brain melted from trying to process too much pleasure at once. A place beyond reason, dignity, or morality. A place I didn't have to wonder why some of my proudest moments where when I was being humiliated. Where I didn't have to explain to anyone...especially myself, why the word 'surrender' sounded so musical to me; why it made me want to sway and writhe to its rhythm. Where pleasure didn't come with a price tag, and the cost wasn't always going up.

In my dream there were strange, phallic protrusions jutting out of the floor and the walls. Different lengths and thickness, with all sorts of different curves and ridges. No two were alike but they were all smooth and hard and slid in my ass with an almost eerie ease, as if I was perpetually lubed up. As I bounced up and down the studly stalagmites, I felt my body come to life, my hands hungrily devoured my new curves, seducing myself and making me want to fuck that slutty little bimbo even harder. My breasts had started as soft little peaches, juicy and tender from what I could only assume was hormones. In time they swelled to the size of small melons. I was at least a D cup now, although I never seemed to wear a bra in The White Room, or any clothes for that matter. Clothes would only get in the way of my eager little fingers, twisting my sensitive nipples until jets of cum escaped my shrunken clit in a sticky coo of satisfaction. I would thrust my head back and see myself in the mirrored ceiling, the only part of the room that broke the illusion of the void, feeling absurdly grateful to my captors for making me the gurl of my dreams. My golden hair crashed in waves against my alabaster skin, my bee-stung lips formed an ecstatic 'O', my already feminine features had been surgically softened, accentuating my button nose and big doe eyes. I probably should have been alarmed to see myself so changed so drastically, so permanently, and in such a short period of time. But there was no fear in The White Room. And as long as I could stay there, I would never have to face the reality my reflection hinted at. I never wanted to wake up...

"Wake up, Belle. You can't ride the decorative dildos all day. It's your first day as an official member of the harem, and I'll be damned if you're going to get me in trouble for letting you fuck yourself all day instead of showing you the ropes." I probably would have shit myself in fear if I hadn't been given daily enemas...or was that part a dream too? Standing in the doorway I didn't even know existed, stood the sissy that got me into this, the stunning raven haired goddess, standing almost six foot sexy, with soft skin and generous curves hiding hard muscle and a cold heart. Her dark eyes constantly smoldering, her full lips always slightly tilted in a sinister smirk. She had the face of a Madonna and the soul of a succubus. To see her was to want her, and to want her was to be damned. All I wanted now was to hate her, after all, she was the one who did this to me. I was supposed to be her Master, but she saw something else inside me, and teased it out of me one squirt at a time. Now that I had the body to match my inner beauty and I'd become just another sissy slave in my step-father's stable, I wondered if she would continue to tease and torment me, or if the affection she had so cruelly faked to bring me low would grow into something real. I said a silent prayer that this was still a dream, because if it was, maybe we could have something real inside my fantasy. "Are you even listening to me, you stupid slut? Or have you gone dick dumb from riding faux phalluses for hours on end?" Sigh...it wasn't a dream. Instead, my nightmare was just beginning.

I followed Isabella out of the room and into a nondescript hallway. I opened my mouth to ask her how long I'd been out, but before I could utter a sound, she said, "First off, don't bother to ask how long you were being 'perfected'. I don't know and if I did, I wouldn't tell you. Time is fluid down here. We know when to eat, sleep, and fuck based on a series of chimes. You probably never paid attention to it when you where upstairs because you never had to meet a deadline in your life, but there are no calenders or clocks upstairs either. So get used to not knowing even the most basic things and accepting whatever you are told." She spoke with a bitterness that I hoped wasn't all directed at me. I realized with a pang of guilt that she was right about me, no one had ever depended on me for anything, so I guess time had always been fluid for me.

I opened my mouth to speak again, and again she cut me off, "Don't bother asking anymore questions. I've heard them all before and I'll tell you everything you need to know to be a good little sissy, which is precious little. That's rule number one by the way...a sissy never asks questions. If she needs to know anything, her Master will tell her." I nodded and followed behind her, walking past a mind boggling number of rooms with different plaques on them...The Locker Room, The Prison Cell, The Count's Chambers, The Classroom...and countless other fantasy themed rooms. I bit my tongue so that I wouldn't let a question slip out, not wanting to upset Isabella before we had a chance to talk about all that had happened.

"Sigh...okay, I can see this is killing you, and you make a really annoying face when you're trying to think, so I'll tell you what the rooms are for. You might have noticed that the basement is pretty big. That's because it's not a basement, it's an underground complex your father built to live in after World War III or Armageddon, or a race war or whatever horrible old rich white men plan for." I felt a twinge of sadness at the mention of my horrible old rich white man father. I had never met the man, he died during my conception, a casualty of his own vanity. He married my mother at age 89, a ridiculous attempt to recapture his youth with a vapid trophy wife. He didn't make it past the wedding night, cumming and going at the same time as his heart gave out. I wonder if that's why I'm so weak? Maybe his sperm wasn't potent enough...

"But to make a long story short, Master Darren saw the potential of the 'basement' and has turned it into a fantasy brothel and sissy re-education center. Even I don't know how big it really is, or where the guests come and go from, but you'll meet them eventually. It's an expanding operation and you're the newest, but certainly not the last sissy to join the team." Suddenly, I felt even more insignificant, if that was even possible. Not only had my identity, my manhood, my fortune, freedom, and future been stripped from me, but I wasn't even special...I was just another sissy out of many to come. Isabella must have noticed my hurt expression, because she consoled me by saying, "Don't you dare get mopey around me. I will give you a reason to cry and then beat the tears out of you. A good sissy is a happy sissy. That's rule number seven. Dammit, look at you making me skip ahead."

"I'm sorry, Mistress Isabella." I didn't dare talk back to her, even if I did think she was being needlessly cruel...after all, she had me wrapped around her little finger when I was still technically a man, still officially her Master...I didn't want to find out what she could do to me now that I was just a sissy. I sucked up my sniffles and followed her without a word until we got to the showers. Before I could even eep, she pushed me against the wall, her hard cock crushing my tiny clit as it struggled to rise to its full two inches...

"Now listen up, because I'm only going to say this once. You're going to learn a lot of rules about being a good little sissy soon, but there's one lesson you need to learn right now. When the Masters aren't around, I'm in charge. If you stupid little sluts get in trouble, I get punished too. So you'd better believe I will keep you in line." Her hand closed around my throat. It was soft and warm, but it felt like it could crush my larynx with a single squeeze. I just kept nodding dumbly, not wanting to give her a reason to give me a demonstration of how she kept naughty sissies in line...

"Now down in the basement the rules aren't as strict. When we have free time, they don't mind us getting off in whatever way we can. But let me warn you, you won't always have a choice in how you get off, or more importantly, how you get the other sissies off. It's not my job to keep the other sissies from picking on you or making you their personal pet and fuckhole." I remembered the casual cruelty with which the voluptuous Latina Lola had fucked the tattooed, pierced, and shaved sissy, Cunt. And the other gurls had eagerly watched as Isabella had fucked the cum out of me. I had a terrifying vision of drowning in a pool of sissy cum that poured out of my well fucked holes. Or was that a tempting vision? The idea of submitting to another sissy made my sissy clit throb, but it also frightened me. If they had even an ounce of the pent up frustration I had at times, they would tear me apart like tissue paper. But without Isabella's protection, I didn't know what I could do.

"If you don't want to end up the bottom bunk bitch of a harem of sissies...and I'd be surprised if you weren't already drooling at the thought, you better assert your dominance and fast. If you don't pick a sissy to overpower and dominate, trust me, one will pick you. Who knows, maybe even you can boss around one of these born and bred bimbo bitches. But first things first, you stink of sweat and cum. Take a shower and then meet me in the dorms so I can finish your reorientation." I nodded yes emphatically, so terrified that I looked like a bobble head doll just to make sure I didn't upset her. She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of disinterested disgust. I hung my head and made my way into the showers. I was starting to think this whole, forcibly feminized fuck doll gig might not be as glamorous as the brochure made out. Worse still, Isabella only saw me as an annoyance. After all we'd been through, I thought she would at least hate me, but this coldness was so much worse. I was beginning to understand why Dante put the traitors in the lowest rung of Hell in a frozen wasteland. I had betrayed Isabella, just as she betrayed me, and now a wall of ice separated us in Hell.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice anyone else as in the showers, that is until I walked right into her. "Hey! What's the big idea?" I almost apologized reflexively, but I swallowed my sorry before I could utter it. I didn't want to appear weak, not when my entire future in the basement was at stake. I had to prove I wasn't at the bottom of the pegging order, and as I saw the hurt look on Cunt's face, I realized I had already found someone I could easily dominate. Her entire body was an advertisement for her weakness, filthy slurs tattooed in ornate lettering across her hairless body, topped off with 'CUNT' written on her forehead. She looked so vulnerable as the water cascaded over her skin, I could just imagine there were tears running down her cheeks. I hated myself for it, but I knew I had to put them there if I wanted to show these sissies I could be tough, or at least tough for a sissy... "Who do you think you're talking to, Cunt? I'll walk where I goddamn want, and you'd better watch where I'm going from now on." I sneered at her as I puffed out my chest, which wasn't quite as intimidating as I'd intended considering I was basically shoving my pendulous breasts at her, but I kept my nerve up. I knew it that it was now or never. I had to establish my dominance immediately so that her natural instinct to submit to someone stronger would kick in and I would have my first bitch. I thought of the various sissies in the harem. Obviously I couldn't make Isabella my bitch, that ship had sailed once I let her fuck me...five or so times. And I knew Lola could kick my ass just as easily as she could fuck it, but I didn't see why I should submit to Bambi or Sakura. I figured that even I could boss around a living kewpie doll and a school girl geisha. But first I had to see to Cunt...

"My name...is CONTESSA!" I smirked as I saw her normally docile face scrunch up into a mask of diminutive rage. It was so cute...that is until she pounced on me, knocking the wind out of me as she hit me square in the stomach with her shoulder and used the full weight of her body to knock me to the floor. I struggled to regain my composure, to try to figure out what just happened, to try and regain control of the situation. But with her steely fingers pinning down my wrists and her powerful legs weighing down on my shapely but weak stems, I realized I never had control in the first place...

"So, you thought you were going to make me your bitch, is that it?" Her modest but shapely B-cup breasts crushed against my almost ridiculously well endowed tits. I squealed like a tortured mouse. I don't know if it was the steam rising from the hot water hitting the cool tile floor or if my new curves were making me feel even more submissive and sex starved than ever before...which before I found myself writhing underneath Contessa's firm grip, I would have never thought possible. "What were you going to make me do...suck your shriveled little clit? Or where you going to try and get it hard enough for a few pathetic pumps inside my sexy ass?" Her lips caressed my ear, her breath hot on my cheek, her teeth closed around my tender ear lobe...

"AIEEEEE!" pain shot through my head as her teeth cut into by flesh, I tried to scream, but she struck with the speed of a cobra, her mouth seizing mine, forcing my scream back down my throat with her nimble tongue. I soon forgot my pain as her tongue wrestled mine to the floor of my mouth and her nipples scraped against mine with a frustratingly frantic friction. Her smooth leg slid between mine, and despite my terror...or maybe because of it, I found myself desperately thrusting my hips, rubbing my swollen clit against her thigh, humping her like a bitch in heat. She released my mouth for a moment and I assumed she wanted to hear me whimper wetly, but then she jammed her leg violently into my baby-soft balls. "EEEEEEEEEE!" my scream would have made a castrato jealous.

"Ooh, I'm going to like playing with you. I haven't even broken the skin and already you're singing like a dying bird." My body was wracked with pain, starting from my bruised fruit and taking root up inside my guts, were it found fertile soil to plant pain....but just as suddenly as she thrust me into Hell, she delivered me into Heaven, moving with a feline speed and grace down between my legs, taking my swollen sack into her mouth and gingerly sucking on it, nursing it back to health as I fought back tears of anguished relief. "You see, Belle, I can be a loving Mistress...but only to bitches that show me respect." Her voice went from silky soft, a soothing whisper that sneaked into my ear to the cold, merciless monotone of an executioner, or her Master, Darius. She got up off me, satisfied that I wouldn't try to resist any further. She stood up and held her dainty foot in front of me, wriggling her little toes. I saw that B-I-T-C-H was tattooed on them with an ornate flourish and I felt a pang of shame that I would have a bitch for a Mistress. But I knew it was pointless to resist, and more than anything, I wanted to find out how loving she could be. I kissed the sole of her foot, licking from heel to toe and taking her dainty toes in my mouth one by one, alternating between sucking on them and sliding my tongue between them. I heard her laugh, it sound like broken glass falling to the floor...

"That's a good little bitch...as long as you know your place, we'll get along just fine. And I'll only have to hurt you a little..." I looked up at her with a look of awe struck submission, not bothering to try and hide the fear and lust wrestling in my eyes. I knew that was what she wanted to see anyway. "You probably thought I was easy prey, didn't you? You saw the way my Master treated me, see my shameful submission literally written on my face, heh you even saw Lola riding me like a little fuck pony, didn't you?" She took her foot and placed it under my chin, lifting my head up closer and closer to her erect sissy stick. I'd never seen it from this angle, it was an intimidating sight, it had grown to at least a full five inches, and not terribly thick, but dotted with metal spikes that had been embedded in her tender cock. I imagined what it would feel like in my throat and I swallowed hard. I realized with a stifled sob that I was about to find out...

"Well I've got some news for you...I'm the toughest sissy in the basement. You could torture me all day and you'd only end up begging me for mercy. My Master has made me the strongest, sickest, sexiest sissy alive, and you little bitches belong to me when you're in my basement. I let your snobby sissy slut pretend she's in charge because she doesn't try and fuck my bitches, but make no mistake...she may enforce the rules, but down here...I make them. So if I want to order Lola to fuck me with her fat prick, then that's my business. But get this straight, she is a kept sissy, just like me, so that makes us better than you community sissies...so don't you ever try and fuck me again. Get it?"

During her threatening tirade she kept rubbing her cock all over my face, the smell of lavender and sweat making me swoon and her hard steel grazing my soft flesh making me tremble in fear...and anticipation. I realized what a terrible mistake I'd made, and I was surprised at how guilty I felt. I don't know if it was the shock of processing all these new sensations and the onslaught of changes all at once, or if I was simply adjusting to my new role as a sissy slave, but I didn't even question why I was so eager to please her. Submitting to the strong just made sense...it was the natural order, it was my moral duty to honor the gods of Domination and Degradation, even if they were arbitrary and cruel. And the worst part was, I think a part of me wanted her to be unfairly malicious. I felt like I deserved to be punished for being so weak, for throwing my life away for a kiss...and who better to condemn me than another sissy? "Please, Mistress, please punish me for being such a stupid slut. I want to be a good slave!" Even as I was saying it I was cringing, my words far braver than I was. Maybe I deserved it, but I didn't know if I was strong enough to take my punishment.

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Jacquie and Michel present TOPLily on webcam for live sex

I am cheerful and sociable. I am developed in many directions. Ready to support a conversation on any topic. I read a lot. I love music. I play musical instruments. I'm a good friend and an excellent psychologist

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Gay Spiral Stories

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Gay Spiral Stories

A most unusual curse, part one.

By BeefyBullGuy@outlook.com - 2018-02-11 02:47

The lead up to current events was, in actual fact, rather bland and uninteresting considering. Jackson had been on vacation in Bangkok, which turned out to be highly ironic. He and a couple of friends had spent several nights partying and hitting up local bars, and women of course, and the days sleeping and recovering, with hopes of drinking and fucking more come nightfall.
Had they stuck to that plan, then this would not have happened. If Jackson had not managed to convince his friends to go sight seeing, he would be perfectly fine, with several new notches on his bed post. But no, they had all agreed to it, to spend the day taking in some culture and bettering themselves.

As it happened, Jackson was rather high up on the attractive scale. standing at 6ft1, with a slender, but toned body, some chest and stomach hair, and an impressive cock which hung at 6 inches soft, and stood at a respectable 8 inches hard, and fairly thick. His face was cute, with a little ruggedness to his features, his dark brown hair pushed back in a modern style.

They had arrived at the temple late afternoon. Most of the tourists had left, and those remaining were hanging around the gift shop, or taking photos with people dressed as characters at the gates. Jackson and his two friends had the temple to themselves. It had been an awful idea, utterly stupid, they had only come here for the laughs. The Tuptim Penis Shrine. A place dedicated to cocks, all shapes and sizes, types and colours. So, what was a young man, 20 to be exact, to do? Jackson, thinking it clever and hilarious, climbed atop the base of one statue, a monstrous 10 foot shaft. That act alone would have been bad enough. To mock and make light of an important cultural artefact, but no, it got far worse. His friends were laughing, and as he began climbing down, there was a loud crack. The entire statue split in two. Five foot of stone cock came crashing down, turning to rubble and dust.

Quite how they escaped without being caught was unknown. The three spent the night at the Airport, their bags packed in a rush, and once they were airborne, did they finally manage to relax.

There had been no reports in the news or papers, or even online of what had happened. Perhaps it was a replica, and the temple had plenty more replacements? Either way Jackson had pushed the terrible memory away, though was sure it would come back in the form of a hilarious incident in the future.

That was four weeks ago now, memories of their adventures were fading a little, his friends had returned to their Colleges, and he to his own. He shared a dorm with one other guy. Kaleb was a nice enough guy, fairly quiet and studious, but attractive and muscular as well, spending a good amount of time in the Gym.
Classes did not start until next week, so Jackson still had the Dorm to himself, and was currently laid on the couch, Some terrible 80's horror movie on.
He decided that a shower and early night would be good, all day he had been feeling hot and irritable.

The young man stood and stretched, reaching for the remote when a sudden pain shot through his entire body, sending him onto his knees in the middle of the dorm. He gasped loudly, hands resting on the floor to steady himself. The pain had gone, leaving him feeling hot and shaky. "What..the fuck was that?" he gasped, pushing himself into a kneeling position. A cramp perhaps? He had been laying on the couch for some time...yea, that made sense.
Trembling a little, Jackson pushed himself to his feet, only to fall back to his knees, crying out in agony once more. The pain lasted a little longer this time, but faded to a dull ache, remaining in the background of his senses.
Panting heavily now, The young brunette was on all fours, his arms trembling. He felt sick, his stomach churning. He coughed a few times and vomited. Thick, white slime poured from his mouth, pooling on the carpet beneath him. He groaned, eyes wide, staring at the pearly white substance on the floor.

He gagged, and again the thick white liquid dribbled from his lips onto the floor. It had a strong, salty taste to it, and looked extremely familiar. He managed to push himself backwards and sat down, shaking all over. Using the back of his hand, he wiped his mouth and looked at the strange fluid. It was thick, sticky, and pearly white....that was impossible...it looked exactly like...

He cried out in pain once more, falling backwards, writhing and clawing at his Tshirt, pulling it over his head. Sweat was beading all over his body as his temperature rose. He needed to get rid of his clothing, he was burning up. Fumbling with his belt, he soon had his jeans, socks and underwear off.
Jackson lay there, fully nude, trembling in the middle of his Dorm, his chest rising and falling quickly with his breathing.

What was happening?! He felt...well, he had no idea how he felt. Hot, sick, in agony. Another cry of pain as every muscle in his legs cramped and tightened. He managed to sit up, though was unable to move his legs at all. Was he paralysed?! He looked down and froze, eyes wide in horror and confusion.

His legs looked wrong, very wrong. Gone were the slender, perfectly toned legs he knew. They now looked soft, and thick and...wrinkled?! He reached out and pushed at his thigh, the skin puckered and creased. He panicked and tried to stand, his legs twitched and juddered, but he couldn't stand, or move them much at all.

As he sat there, breathing heavily, he could see them changing. The skin darkening, the hairs on his legs curling, becoming darker as well. After a while, his legs were flat, as though only made of skin, with no muscle or bone at all, just two hairy, wrinkled sacks. This was a nightmare...that was it, there was no other explanation... He slapped himself, several times, each one harder and more desperate than the last.

There was a new sensation now, a heavy, dull ache filling what once was his legs."Fuck..fuck fuck, no...whats...oh fuck" he whimpered, too terrified to look, but managed to force himself to. The skin sacks had gotten larger, the gap between his legs had sealed almost right down to what were once his feet. But now they did not look empty or flat, it seemed there were two softballs inside each, which were swelling and growing.

He knew what was happening. It was impossible...but here it was, right before him. More and more the orbs inflated and grew. He only just noticed that his cock and balls had merged into the wrinkled skin as well. Jackson pushed himself back against the couch, tears streaming down his cheeks. Above his waist he was himself, but below the waist, his legs, his feet, his cock and his ass..they were...they had become Balls. A thick, hairy, huge sack, with two beach ball sized balls.

His fear and horror were overwhelming, every month, for three days, he would be this?! No...looking down, he saw it, the beginning of the next stage. His Bellybutton had faded away, his flat stomach looked more rounded.

The young man stared, eyes wide, mouth open in disbelief. Occasionally he would cough, spluttering cum down his chest and stomach. He knew, somehow, that this was because he broke that totem statue. Something inside of him knew of his curse now. He was cursed, every month, to become a..cock. He was a Werecock....
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