Gio è un ragazzo di 21 anni, alto circa un metro e novanta e dal fisico abbastanza atletico, l'unica vera pecca del suo fisico è il pene, decisamente piccolo che raggiunge appena i 7 cm. Stava camminando in un supermercato in cerca di un negozio dove poter compare dei vestiti, era un giorno di estate abbastanza caldo e il centro commerciale era pieno di gent...
I awoke on the side of the road to the sound of someone speaking loudly into a telephone while holding me down. "Yea, I have her under control now, but she hasn't really calmed down at all and still seems confused. Just look for the glowing blue flashlight and come as quickly as you can please." I saw the blurry face of a man, and then realized with horror t...
THE FUTILITY OF ATTEMPTING to inspire post-pubescent males to pay attention to my morning lecture—more accurately, my yet-again-bootless attempt to emplant even a soupçon of learning in their somnolent minds—forced me yet again to reconsider the wisdom of my accepting appointment as Charles Lutwidge Dodgson Distinguished Professor of Sociology and Forensic P...
Annabelle entered the small shop on Dauphine, east side of the French Quarter. A remote jingle announced her presence. An attractive clerk fussing behind the jewelry counter looked up. Smiled. Sparsely staged collections of couture dresses flanked the quietly hued space. Each designer's latest propped and lit like sculpture. Another patron, a tall, too skinn...
Lentamente riprendo coscienza...mi ricordo solo di essere passato vicino ad un furgone e di avere sentito una gran botta sulla testa...poi il buio.. Adesso mi sveglio e mi sento intontito..sono su un letto ma non riesco a muovermi...le mie braccia e le gambe sono legate...al letto...mi guardo intorno e vedo che sono stato svestito e sono rimasto in mutande.....
Meg waltzed in wearing a party hat—a conical thing with spiral squiggles, bright cherry sparklies, and a little spray of limp confetti at its peak. The silly thing looked quite good on her, actually. But then, everything looks good on her. Anything looks good on her. Nothing looks especially good on her. Whatever. You get the idea. She handed me a present,...
As sunrise wakes the questing hand To twitch beneath the sheet, The morning finds its orchestra To drum out new dawn’s beat. With warming note of whistled breeze To rise the morning wood, Who shan’t finger to accomp’ny When playing feels so good? Let every woman, with her hand —strike her dawn song. Call every man, to come and stand —‘join our dawn song.’ ‘T...
For those of you who read the first part of Anita, I have to answer my own question: yes, it was all fiction. This second part of the Anita (Annie) story is also fiction. So any resemblance to people living or dead or places are purely coincidental. These stories are purely products of my imagination, produced with the invaluable help of a friend S. who edit...
In this story a wealthy and eccentric musician/sound recordist captures the scintillating song of his bound chanteuse. Bondage, sadism, "forced" toy and oral sex. * He likes her best this way. She is on her back, her ass midway off the piano bench. Her black silk clad legs are tied wide apart to the legs of the wooden altar, her pretty feet are in three in...
There was a peculiar coda to this whole amazing affair. About two months later, in mid-February, long after the young people had gone back to their respective colleges and left Daniel and Shirley alone to reacquaint themselves—sexually and otherwise—as husband and wife, there was a tentative knock on the door. It was on a Saturday afternoon, and Shirley was...