The Party – Part 1 (watersports and humiliation)

Ten guests: Six women, four men.

‘Leave your ‘selves’ at the door’ was the mantra issued by Jake, the organiser. It was a nod to what he called ‘falling down the rabbit hole’: fully embracing a world of fantasy, and sexual indulgence, and leaving inhibitions behind.

To an outside observer, the party looked like any other. Apart from all the people being notably good looking, there was nothing that would raise an eyebrow. Six beautiful women, dressed to impress, and four smartly dressed men, sitting around a coffee table in a glamorous sitting room. Jake always hosted parties in houses that were both expensive and isolated.

He stood in front of his guests wearing a dark black suit and a crisp white shirt; smart and ruggedly handsome. Next to him stood a gorgeous woman. Julia had blonde hair spilling down her chest, her curvaceous body enclosed in a tight black dress, and she almost seemed to sparkle in the soft lights.

“Who wants to hold his cock?” she asked.

Five women’s hands shot up.

She was holding a glass jug, her perfectly manicured nails tight clasped around the handle.

Florida Man X El Crocodilo: A Revenge Story Part 2

So as I was saying, it was time to annihilate El Crocodilo’s bloodline. Like the alligator forged in the fires of mount clapass itself that was currently laying before me, I proceeded to go absolute sicko mode on some fuckin croco’s. I turned to midgemong, thinking he would be lubricated axle in between a mexican mans left quadricep easy, however the beast was not easily skewered, as he realeased the primordial ooze from his pouch. After squeezing my double roided triple fist right handed semi sore beating tool tighter than a hydraulic press, I completely obliterated the beast, by dropping 457 lbs of your dead weight onto the animal. My scapula was still torn into the shape of an amsterdam strippers spine, but I had smoten the beast.

We Met at 7-Eleven [MF]

Hot right? There’s nothing like sticky floors and stale spinning hot dogs to get the juices flowing. It

was actually outside the 7-Eleven. I was parked in my truck, taking lunch. I liked the Bi-mart parking lot

for my breaks. It was just on the edge of my recycle route. That’s right, my garbarge-man recycle-truck

driving route. I had been working this job for the past two years since getting out of the Army at 24.

It was a glass-truck. I picked up the blue boxes lining the neighborhoods and filled with all the empty

loneliness we are all so nobly and responsibly disposing of. I had to drive my truck from the right side

when on-route, standing up and without a door. I had very defined calve muscles to say the least.

I was parked at the edge of the Bi-Mart parking lot, just before the ambiguous crossover into

pavement leased to the 7-Eleven corp, two rows of spots away from the pumps. I was watching her

scrolling through the RedBox on the curb outside next to the propane cage and plastic-wrapped

firewood stacked on mildewed pallets.

[M+F+Z+] CRAZY HOT ZOMBIES – The apocalypse is coming so hard.

This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever written. A zombie-filled, pornographic, apocalyptic comedy. It’s more fun with the pictures (mobile friendly). May your quarantine be full of laughter and orgasms.

https://crazyhotzombies.com

Here’s the start…

—–

The Crazy Hot Zombie came into the house naked. Her nipples were glistening on her swollen titties. She was smoking.

Literally.

Her golden Hawaiian skin was smoking, because she was shot. Someone had tried to shoot her in the head but missed. She had a bullet-hole in her collar-bone. Her beautiful skin was closing over the injury, giving off smoke like incense.

She healed in only seconds. Then she was standing there perfectly whole. Perfectly hot. Her dark Hawaiian hair fell back from her golden face. Her lips were red and luscious from the brains she had been eating earlier.

10/10 I would hit that.

“Yo, fuck these bitches,” said Mickey.

He put a sawn-off shotgun up to the Crazy Hot Zombie’s face. He blew her head off – that’s the only way to kill a Crazy Hot Zombie.

“She was fine though,” I said.

“She was,” said Mickey. “Now she’s got an apple bottom and a watermelon head.”

Power games led me to a memorable experience

I had recently moved to a new job in NYC. A 30 year old lonely, small town girl with big ambitions and a high paying job had moved to NYC to go through the next phase of her life. I did not have any friends, just few acquaintances and helpful colleagues. There was this guy Kevin in my office who was reporting to me. Kevin was roughly my age, a bright hard working colleague whose personality was quite different from me. He was less confident in most discussions, avoided conflicts and was happy to please his new boss, that is me, even at the expense of working late nights.

After couple of weeks of getting started in my new job, I was already tense. Too many work responsibilities, setting up my new apartment and managing things in New York is never easy. But I sensed a kind of power in my new job that I never felt before. May be it was Kevin who never said ‘No’ to me, his attitude of always trying to please me was enjoyable.

Crossdressing Confessions – Part II

I resolve against saying yes, but my tongue conspires against me with the technical compliance of a divorce lawyer. “I would love to.”

“Great. I live just down the street, and I was hoping I wouldn’t have to walk home alone.” Her head tilts toward me as she speaks, as though she’s admitting something deeply private. Again I feel the whole room focusing into me when her eyes lock onto me. They dart back and forth for a brief moment, scanning over my expression for any clues into my desires. My lungs tense with each breath under her scrutiny.

“Sure, just let me actually water the plants and we can head over.”

Her house is just a few blocks and an uneventful walk away. She wraps an arm around mine as we walked. I give her an affectionate look and she gives my bicep a squeeze. I learn her name. Florence, or Flora for short. A single corner of the apartment is illuminated with yellow light, revealing a frosty plastic container and the sharp glint of a handful of metallic pins. Most prominent, however, is the glossy sheen of a glass case, whose contents are obscured by the sharpness of the light’s reflection.

Birthday girl (M/f) (BDSM)

She stirred, a quiet dreaming moan punctuating the muted clink of metal chain links under the comforter. She was chained, as always, in Master’s bed, sleeping on her side facing away from him. He was propped up on one elbow with his free hand exploring her body possessively. He brushed his fingers between her legs, pleased to find her smooth cunt wet and dripping as always.

His slave, his property was a marvelous creature he mused. There were many reasons this was so, and one of them was her body’s ability, trough training and conditioning and natural propensity, to remain in a steady and constant state of arousal. There were two purposes to this condition, neither of which were related to her pleasure. No, he had trained her body to be always ready and available to receive his cock (or anything else) in it’s various holes with as little discomfort or effort on his part as possible. Second, a permanent state of need kept his property always eager to serve and obey.

Higher Stakes Pt. 1 – Blackmail BDSM (MF)

Mrs Elaine makes the sudden move, rook to take my bishop, my king left temporarily exposed. Her pearl necklace dangles down to the top of her chest, moving with each twist of her hand as she drags the piece gracefully across the board to put me in check.

‘Check, Mister Sanderson.’

Nodding, I look up at her, her brown eyes flickering with the fireplace heat behind me. Her draping brunette hair flirts with the middle of her arms as she shuffles slightly in the armchair and eyes me cautiously but hungrily. 

‘You really are playing for high stakes aren’t you?’ 

‘What made you ever think I was playing for low stakes Mister Sanderson?’

I watch her back just as carefully, smiling, touché. She reciprocates with full ferocity, her eyes ablaze. She wasn’t here for just the chit chat, there was something else on her mind. 

‘What are you playing for exactly Mrs Elaine?’ My brow furrows, the heat in the room growing as the sparks flick out onto the stone in front of the fire. 

Moon ritual gangbang (part 1) – [female gangbang] [msub] [fdom] [enthusiastic consent] [POV]

Every bump in the dirt road inches my white shift slightly higher up my thighs. I’m driving like a madwoman and you’re holding onto the armrest of the old sedan like you’re worried I’m going to kill you.

*Aw, babe. You can trust me, pet.*

“Are you ready for the ritual?” I ask you, smiling at you seductively through hooded eyes.

“Yes,” you manage through gritted teeth as we fly over another bump. “I think so.”

“Darlin’, I understand that this is a lot. I’m more than happy to talk you through everything again, as much as you need. We won’t go through with the ritual unless you are 100%, entirely on board. It’s important that you want this. That you’re ready.”

You nod. *So obedient.* The gears turn in your head as you think about everything I’ve told you about what will happen tonight. The importance of this celebration. Its meaning. Your role.

“What are you worried about?”

“If I want to stop…?” Your voice trails off. Higher pitched than you’d expect for a man of your size. You’re nervous.