Not many people know this about me, but I used to own and operate a BDSM-themed boutique hotel near the Canadian border, ten miles south of Blaine. It was called the Black Rose: 26 rooms, all themed with velvet curtains and marble pillars and packed with kinky sex implements, going for $300 a night in high season. It catered mostly to Americans and Canadian...
After that night with Angela, I waited a week to go back to the Pub. I knew she was leaving just a couple of days after our hookup. That was why I waited until then to take her home. It's a little awkward to have a one-stand with a girl and then run into her at your favorite bar again under any circumstance, especially if that one night stand involved her be...
An old story from 15 years ago. Some of the detail might be outdated now! ***** My agony was a great source of amusement to the men in my squad, but I was beyond caring about them. It felt as though the world had dropped on my balls and every movement only caused more pain. Eventually I dragged myself from my bag and went to see the duty boss to report...
Lily and Violet were standing over a naked man. He lay on the ground, battered and bruised, covering his crotch. He was also staring up Violet's skirt, and smiling at what he saw. Lily was drinking from a bottle of Gatorade, and Violet was finishing a can of beer. "You're not going to hydrate properly drinking that stuff," said Lily. "I know," said Violet...
This story is a sequel to The Dutch Master. The narrator, having signed a one month slave contract to Gerd, his Master, finds himself sold to the beautiful red headed lifestyle dominatrix Arianne de Vries. This cruel and sadistic woman now intends to transport him back to The Netherlands on her yacht and make him her houseboy. "Look boy, let's not make out...
We met on the Bulletin Boards. I sent Lucy a 'Private Message' and she replied. She was very careful in her responses and gave very little away. She was amusing straight away with subtle one liners which I enjoyed. She wouldn't give away any specifics about where she lived or what she did and it took time to get to know that she travelled around Europe quite...
My wife Daisy and I are portrait painters. Usually, when I tell people that, I get a puzzled expression. Fact is, rich people still get their mugs immortalized in oil on canvas. The Cordells, in Texas, were a good example. Four generations of Cordells had their portraits painted and hung in the main house at the ranch. Daisy and I got the commission to pain...
This story contains details of wife sharing so please don't read it if that bothers you. * * * * * Twenty-five years ago my wife and I went for a long weekend in Holland. It was part business, part pleasure. On the Friday I had a meeting with Marc, whose company I'd done business with for several years and with whom I'd become very friendly. So much so th...
You read about and hear all the time about the husband who comes home unexpectedly, or shows up some place where he's not supposed to be, and sees his wife doing something he wasn't supposed to see. You always think it's going to happen to someone else, until that fateful moment when it happens to you. I wasn't supposed to come home from that particular bu...
A sudden movement made Richard quickly snap his head around to the left, but it must have just been the wind moving a branch. Then as he turned back in the direction he was walking his face turned directly into another overhanging branch which promptly shed its load of cold water down the neck of his jacket, making him cry out a mild curse. He had at last de...