I was raped in an alley, but maybe I don’t really mind.

You know, I’ve heard about rape victims. Poor, sobbing women who need years of therapy. Pained, abused men who crave emotional support nobody will give them. Usually, rape is a bad thing, and rightfully so – but for me? Well, let’s just say that it wasn’t too bad.

Sone background before we begin: I’m pretty into bdsm stuff. Tying someone to my bed, spreading their pussy wide open and using a variety of dildos and vibrators at the same time was one of my favourite pastimes. It got to the point where, in my college, I was nicknamed “Mafia Boss” for the number of pepe I had supposedly tortured. I didn’t mind – since I was paid to do it, more publicity meant more income for me.

Well, safe to say I had a large fanbase by the time I graduated. I remember about 20-30 people texted me when I left, some older, some younger, all craving one last helpless sexual experience with me. I granted a few of them, but only to pay for the downpayment on my house. After that, I had to focus on my job.

Mine’s Different From Yours, May I Take A Closer Look? [FF] [Friends] [First Time] [Innocent]

Rarely do two girls ever truly stay friends. Lots of them are short lasting and end in petty fights. My friendship with Natalie was no such friendship. We met in 6th grade and have been friends ever since. We told each other everything, even things that we didn’t tell our other friends or even our parents. Some stuff only best friends can understand.

I was there when she had her first kiss, and she was there when I had mine. When I found out she was a lesbian, I was there when her other friends weren’t. They looked at her as a horny, promiscuous dyke that could turn on them at any moment. Me? I just looked at her as, well…Natalie. My best friend for life.

Every single thing that could possibly go wrong in our lives, we told each other. We would sit for hours and gossip and chat and just talk.

I love my best friend. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better.

One night, she comes to me confused and a little jittery. Like the first time she drank coffee, but less energetic. As per usual, she sat on my bed and we began our conversation. She had damp hair from a shower and the faint smell of her shampoo wafted my way.

[MF] Walk in woods [BDSM][public]

This is my first story, it’s just little fantasy I had.

We are walking in the woods, until we come to place you deicide you like. “Here is fine”. You take blanket out of bag you carried with you. I thought its picnic but I see now as I peak in I was wrong. We sit on blanket, kissing, exploring, hands roaming, until you move away.

“Stand up” you say. I look at you, dazed, unfocused, aroused, but I gather myself and stand up still unsure of what you had planned. “There!” You show a spot between two trees.

You dig around in bag until you find what you want. You walk to me holding rope, I tremble, shifting from leg to leg. You trace my arm slowly lifting it so you can tie it to tree. Kissing my neck. You do same on other arm. My arms are spread between two trees, you stand in front of me, that teasing smile plastered on your lips “Spread your legs”. I do it, just not enough, you say “tsk tsk tsk, you should know better than that, babes!” You gently kick my legs bit more apart. Then tie my legs to trees as well, slowly.

An Unexpected Service

My wife loves to be tied up. Though we started slow, over the years we have become more adventurous. Early on we would buy cheap BDSM gear from popular online sites, but lately we have upped our game. Through trial and error, we have replaced everything with quality items.

Now we have all the gear we ever wanted. The newest and biggest change to our routine was this sex bench, a steel sawhorse with padded platforms for the forearms and legs. It originally came with buckles and straps, but I found they were too weak and moved around too much to really explore having her fully and helplessly restrained. Simple cotton ropes were the perfect upgrade.

It is not something we break out all the time, so when she mentioned it I knew we were in for a great weekend. It was a rare weekend that we would be on our own. Having an empty house meant being able to have sex anywhere and at any time we wanted. I set it up downstairs in the living room and brought out all the toys, including the cameras I have started using to film our exploits. Though I have always had these cameras, I rarely take the time to set them up. Today I was going to take my time. This lazy morning was going to turn into an afternoon of pleasing my wife.

An unexpected Service [MF] [BDSM]

My wife loves to be tied up. Though we started slow, over the years we have become more adventurous. Early on we would buy cheap BDSM gear from popular online sites, but lately we have upped our game. Through trial and error, we have replaced everything with quality items.

Now we have all the gear we ever wanted. The newest and biggest change to our routine was this sex bench, a steel sawhorse with padded platforms for the forearms and legs. It originally came with buckles and straps, but I found they were too weak and moved around too much to really explore having her fully and helplessly restrained. Simple cotton ropes were the perfect upgrade.

It is not something we break out all the time, so when she mentioned it I knew we were in for a great weekend. It was a rare weekend that we would be on our own. Having an empty house meant being able to have sex anywhere and at any time we wanted. I set it up downstairs in the living room and brought out all the toys, including the cameras I have started using to film our exploits. Though I have always had these cameras, I rarely take the time to set them up. Today I was going to take my time. This lazy morning was going to turn into an afternoon of pleasing my wife.

Feeding Time (BDSM) (MF)

Feeding Time

By Larry Kessler

Hole was on her knees, naked except for her collar and leash, in front of her Master, playing with his semi-hard cock in her mouth.  He sat on a couch in front of her, idly flipping through channels and eating a sandwich she had made for him.

    They often spent weekend afternoons like this, or at least Hole assumed Master’s presence during the day meant it was a weekend (her life since she had signed the contract with him caused days to blend together and Hole had  lost any real reason or ability to keep track of them.)  Master would lounge around as she serviced him with love and devotion.  Master had told Hole once why he enjoyed their current arrangement.

Hole’s continuous sucking of his cock kept her focused on her purpose in life and meant he could easily use her for an orgasm should he feel to.  His being only vaguely aware of her as he ate and watched TV emphasized that she was nothing but a pleasing possession of his that did not require any special attention.

Embrace of the Goddess Part 4 [FF] [BDSM] [Fantasy]

**Chapter 4: Hunger**

**Iriel**

“You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I am.” Iriel signed the mandate and passed it to Kasha. The pudgy dwarven woman held it in disbelief.

“All of them?” asked the headmistress.

“All of them.”

“High Priestess, after having three extreme cases of debauchery—”

“They were not extreme.”

Kasha froze, looking up from the mandate, her fingers like trembling sausages. “Your Eminence?

“They were cases of debauchery, but they were not extreme. Who told you they were extreme?”

“I read the reports …”

Iriel sighed, tapping her thick and curving claws into the desk. They were disguised as fingers, but they still gave off the sharp tapping of claws. No one had asked her about the sound except for Orilana, and she dodged that artfully enough.

“They were girls. Girls experiment. You may be asexual, but the more … advanced races have long accepted sexuality as part of life. It’s healthy. Normal.”

“But Azora forbids it. The acolytes take vows of -”

A Piece Written at my Command by my slave. “What Master Deserves” (gay, bdsm)

he was comfort. Not his own, but Master’s. he was one of two slaves that was always by Master’s Side. He attended to Master’s Physical Comfort; ensuring that Master was never too hot, too cold, too tense, without a fitting place to rest or recline, free of any aches or pains, and other things of that nature. Like the other two comfort’s tasks could not be listed precisely as they were dictated by Master’s Needs, but they were limited to Master’s Comfort, for that is what he was, comfort.
Also like the other two, he bedded on the floor of Master’s Personal Chambers. comfort didn’t sleep much, for his duty was important even when Master was asleep. Between brief two or three hour naps, comfort kept careful attention to everything that happened in Master’s Room. comfort could not allow aAMaster’s Chambers to become too hot to two cold, had to ensure that, regardless of Master’s Movements in his sleep, His bedding did not shift. The rate of Master’s Breathing, if changed could be a sign that he needed comfort to act to address some change in the room before Master awoke due to some discomfort. It was while he stood his nighttime vigil that comfort ate. There was always food in Master’s Chambers for comfort and the other two, and comfort did not have much time to eat during the day. comfort’s duty was more important, and took all of comfort’s focus when Master was awake
When Master awoke at the appointed time in the mornings, comfort’s duty did not shift or waver, but became more important. comfort ensured Master’s Feet never needed to touch the floor and Master never needed to walk about his home unclothed. comfort had soft, warm shoes ready for Master’s Feet, and a clean, luxurious robe for Master’s Body. comfort adorned Master with these things. comfort ensured that Master’s Bath was ready with water of Master’s Preferred Temperature, and while comfort was present to add warm or cold water, if necessary, to adjust the temperature, he did not bathe Master, that was another’s job. Master did not need to dry Himself off, for comfort was always there with a clean, warmed towel. comfort also dressed Master. comfort’s duty was to know what Master wanted to wear and to adorn him.
comfort never left Master. Wherever Master was, there was comfort. At meal times comfort fanned Master, or provided himself as a place for Master to rest his feet, if the temperature was fair. If Master required it, comfort would massage Master. Master never needed to ask. comfort had learned the subtle signs and tensions that told him when Master needed him, and how Master needed him. Most of Master’s day comfort was merely present, paying close attention to Master, Master’s Posture, Master’s Muscle Tensions, how Master walked, how Master ate, comfort was ever vigilant for any sign of discomfort. Whenever comfort followed Master into a new room, comfort broadened his focus to the new surroundings. Would the windows be drafty? Would the floor cause Master’s Feet to ache? Was there appropriate furniture should Master want to sit or recline? All of these comfort needed to know so comfort could anticipate Master’s Needs. comfort had become good at his duty and enjoyed it, as did all three of them.
When Master desired to retire to His Bed, comfort ensured that the bed was made correctly; that nothing was out of place. Often, comfort was on hand to clean and refresh the bed after Master indulged in one of the others. comfort was never jealous of that one of the others. That duty was merely not comfort’s duty. comfort had only to ignore the noises Master and that one of the others made. comfort could tell when Master was nearly finished with that one of the others, and ensured a bath and towel were ready for Master. While Master bathed, comfort fixed the bed for the night.

I know [M/f] [BDSM]

*this is in response to a dual challenge. It is my first posted work anywhere, and is dedicated to the person who knows why. Comments and criticism welcome*

I Know

Vanessa Hill was a woman of habits. She knew when she was supposed to be awake. What time she could leave if she rode her bike to the train station. What colors looked best on her in all seasons. There was little room for variance or error. It’s not that she was picky, she thought as she pinned her hair up in the tight bun that kept her looking professional and proper.
Things just had an optimized way to be done and Vanessa worked tirelessly to find them. Every day scheduled, every moment planned. Her friends would joke that she could take her routes to work blindfolded because she had counted how many steps from her stop to the building her office was in. Vanessa Hill liked order.

panic [nsfw] [rough] [bdsm]

I woke up in a panic. my head frantically searching the bed for him. “baby?” where’d he go? I pushed the covers off and I shivered when my feet touched the floor. it was so cold.

I grabbed my phone and I saw the time. 3:34 am

I pushed the door open slowly and I peeked my head out into the hallway. “hello?” the floor creaked beneath my feet the closer I got to the small sliver of light I saw at the end of the hall.

I turned the corner and walked into the kitchen and there he was. head down in his arms and he was sleeping on the island. I walked up to him slowly and I softly touched his shoulder.

he jolted awake and I pulled my hand away. “hey it’s just me.” It took him a minute to adjust his eyes to the light but he smiled when he saw me. “How come you’re out here? are you okay?”

he grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him. He patted the counter and I jumped up. I sat in front of him and he wrapped my legs around him. “…couldn’t sleep, so I came out here to get some water and I don’t know what happened.”