My name is Annabelle Mitchell. I'm a six-foot-tall, blonde-haired and green-eyed, wealthy Irishwoman attending State University. Currently, I live in a mansion and I am served by my very willing slave, Wanda Sullivan, a big Black woman who used to be a Professor of Literature at the school before she found her true calling. She wanted to be my servant. More...
I had just moved into my neighborhood. Didn't know a soul. In the mornings I would be at work. At night, I'd come home. Sit in bed and chat on the puter. I confess to being a geek. Online chat is a lot better than spending all evening with an idiot, worrying if he'll try to kiss you. Besides, I was getting tired of the men my age. So childish. I wanted som...
I was sitting on a bench in the park enjoying the fall day reading one of my favorite erotica novels. The park was pretty empty as the families were all packing their belongings and kids to head home. I knew that once Jay gets off work, he will be joining me before we head out for dinner later in the evening. Not far from where I was sitting was a nice-look...
"Jesus, Spider, what a freak you are." Millisande snorted as she watched her poor husband strutting uncomfortably across the bedroom. She stepped up to the big man in the little pink frock and she twisted his right nipple, watching with pleasure as he winced. "Millie, please, it hurts." "It should hurt, a little bitch faggot like you needs a little hurtin...
The only sound in the room was the slow soft rhythmic breathing of the naked men on either side of my equally bare body, their warmth a comfort against my skin. The pale glimmer of moonbeams found their way through the slight part in the dark curtains to cast unmoving shadows against the white ceiling, while the rest of the room was bathed in soothing darkne...
Nakimura House The kisses went on and on, and they blocked out everything else in the world as Gabriel and Grace rolled around fully clothed on the bed. Their kisses had started off sweet and slow, but before long they grew more passionate, more intense. Grace's soft moan was audible in the silence of the room as she increased the pressure of the kiss and...
The Starlight Sonata, Part II (note: part one of the story appeared under the title "Woman in Chains") The Stones of Years I The air was so cold that the snow underfoot crunched like shards of broken glass on cold, dry stone; each breath the boy drew-in burned so sharply it made his clear blue eyes water. The cold seared his eyes, tears formed and ran d...
Nancy always knew there was something strange about the old house next door. The bent old woman who lived there was extremely secretive, and she often brought unusual things into the house, sometimes in the dark of night. Chains, clamps, even a whip were among the objects she saw carried in. Then there were the moans and groans coming from the basement. The...
CHAPTER ONE: SUNDAY. An unexpected meeting in the cemetery. Tim Bloomfield put a sketchbook, soft pencils, stanley knife, eraser and pens into a plastic carrier bag, walked carefully down the stairs from his flat, let himself out of his front door tucked between a pizza restaurant and an estate agent, and crossed the road under a hot June sun to the entra...
In the afternoon the boss came round my office. I was just explaining Marianne what – except for the daily blowjob of course - her do's and don'ts were. Marianne sat with her legs spread at the opposite desk while I was telling her all this, when the old man came in. "Hi. How's things going on your first day?" he said, pretending he didn't notice Marianne's...