My name is Caitlin Mendel. A five-foot-ten, lean, blonde-haired and green-eyed, deeply nerdy Irishwoman living in the city of Brockton, Massachusetts. I'm a student at Saint Marcus College, a local two-year school, and these days, life is okay. I like the way the school is looking this year. Forty two percent of the eight-thousand-person student body is of A...
Editor's Note: this submission contains raceplay and femdom content. * Not long ago it was a straight and stuffy white male. it was arrogant and self-satisfied with its white male social and economic leverage and advantages. In the rat-race of white society it suppressed its submissive white side. But from time to time it would slip into daydreams of hav...
The night had fallen for a couple hours, and yet, Los Angeles was more dynamic than ever. The city was shining a thousand lights coming from its numerous buildings, and its population was living it's life, far from suspecting something terrible was coming their way. And yet, it was. You see, there are things humans have come to think impossible, because the...
What might the world look like if women were usually stronger and more aggressive than men? Perhaps a society existing very much like the one we know, but with almost every gender role reversed. Not only that, but what if the ideas about the sexes that evolved in such a world were far stricter, enforced through every aspect of society and any deviation looke...
Miss Jojo here. Everyone's favorite blonde tormentor. I'm reading a letter from my former submissive, Tamara. The butch Black woman I so enjoyed taming. Certainly brings back memories. I actually missed you quite a bit too, Tammy! I've been back to fucking with my young white women ( which I love) but I certainly do miss humiliating a beautiful Black Amazon...
Der sonnige Morgen wurde durch ein störendes klingen gestört. Während du den Schlaf aus den Augen reibst, blickst du auf dein Handy und versuchst zu entziffern wer dich da eigentlich so früh wecken muss. Die Nummer ist zu verschwommen also gehst du lieber ran, eventuell ist das der langerwartete Anruf wegen der Praktikumsstelle! "urgh ja guten Tag?"...
The Abbey of the Order of the Burning Rose has stood upon the hallowed cliffs at White Rock and faced it stones against the crashing sea for over nine hundred years. Its great walls are built from slabs of the white marble upon which its foundation rests. The salt spray has etched and darkened paths between each massive block of stone so that it seems drawn...
Chapter 3 - The Negro She watched intently as the muscles on the man's buttocks and thighs twitched and tightened, as he lay prostrate before her in expectation. The intensity of expectation in the room heightened. The girl turned to face us and without speaking, beckoned us forward to the foot of the bed where we stood looking down at the Negro's glisteni...
This is a Hub Page to make it easier to select a path the reader would enjoy most right from the start and as such very much a WIP. {Morpheus here: This story is what Germans call a "Fingerübung", a finger excercise to test out how to structure and maintain a first complex story all of my own. As such, expect some newbie mistakes and such, even tho...
I’d been working as a doorman of this club called The Loft for two years now. It was a good job. Good pay, $30 an hour. Flexible hours so I could study during the week, I typically only worked Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights. People always asked, doesn’t it suck having to work every weekend while they got to drink? Not really. I was used to working weeken...