It’s Saturday, at about noon. I pull up to your house, dressed spiffily in a shirt and tie. I hand you a dozen roses, and gently kiss your cheek. You look beautiful, dressed in your powder blue hoodie and sexy pants without back pockets. I tell you that you look great, better than I could have imagined. Even as I sit and write this letter to you, I imagine how you will look, and I know that my thoughts do your true form little justice.
We embrace, a warm hug, and our bodies hold each close, as if we will never let go. I feel the warmth of your breasts into my chest, and I feel happy and secure; you feel the tightness of my grip around your back, and enjoy the security as well. We both smile. › Continue reading
Tags: Fetish, Story
I have the day off from class, and I am horny as anything. So I wake you up by rubbing my breasts up and down your chest, slowly undulating my body. As your beautiful cock starts to rise, I slide my body down to worship it. Slowly pulling it into my mouth, I slide my tongue up and down the shaft, flicking the tip as I start to pump my mouth up and down. Swirling my tongue around your shaft, letting it slide slowly across your head. When I’ve got you nice and hard and semi awake, I slide my body up, letting my burning pussy slide up your thigh and over the head of your dick, coming to rest with my legs on either side of your stomach and my wet pussy sitting over your belly button. You look up at me and give me a half awake smile. I smile back, and lean down to whisper in your ear. › Continue reading
Tags: Fetish, Story
What are you waiting for Master? I am here. Fuck me up! I know that you can. You are vicious, evil, and sadistic. God I love that about you. You know just how to turn my body and my mind into jello. First you worm your way into my brain, by talking to me that special way you do. Your voice is deep and dark, and excites me like no other man. You love that, don’t you?! Threatening me, teasing me, torturing me, telling me what you will do to me. It gets my blood boiling, my head swimming, and makes me drip. I sweat, as my heart races, and I am floating as I try and concentrate on your words. You have not touched me yet, but I want you to more than ever. Take me, I am your property. I am your sex slave and your whore. I will do whatever you want of me, just touch me. My breath is short and I am so turned on. Ask me what my name is, or any simple question, and I have to fight to get the answers out. I am putty in your hands, waiting for you to mold me into what you want, and what you need. Your breath is upon me, and I convulse uncontrollably for you. Don’t you understand how much I want you?! You are hot, and even though you don’t see it, it is undeniable to me. › Continue reading
Tags: Fetish, Story
A common misconception about men who commit to serving a Mistress is that they are weak. A black and white distinction that slaves are weak and Mistresses are strong is a foolish assumption to make. Mistress Donna had to admit that many a slave has gained her respect by his unflinching loyalty and devotion, despite painful and traumatic circumstances. Only slaves strong enough to sacrifice much of their personal lives deserved to serve Mistress Donna.
For instance, her Irish Sissy Dolan, had suffered with a jealous and vengeful wife for his devotion of service to Mistress Donna for close to 8 months now. His wife having caught him in the act of serving his Mistress Donna had forced him into domestic slavery for her own wicked pleasure. Unlike Mistress Donna his wife was a cruel and hateful Mistress, her main focus was to make Dolan suffer as much as possible. Little did she realize that this only fueled the fire of desire her husband hid deep in his heart for his Mistress Donna. › Continue reading
Tags: Fetish, Story
I suppose I should start at the beginning, but the beginning wasn’t a very good start for me. I hadn’t had good luck with Mistresses, because the ones I chose required a high tolerance for pain. And I wasn’t one for being bruised and decorated with welts. So, I I’ll start the night I met Mistress Katherine.
It was a private club in Chicago that I had attended with previous Dommes. Oh, my ex- Dommes were there on occasion, and they respected my privacy. I wasn’t talked about disrespectfully (that I know of). But others knew me there already; especially the female subs. We would sit on the couch in one corner of the dungeon and talk until one (or more) was snatched away to play. Sometimes I was invited by their Domme to join in, always with the discussion of what would be done beforehand, unless they knew me. › Continue reading
Tags: Fetish, Story
