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As she awoke she marveled at the softness and coolness of the sheets enveloping her. The warm soft sun shown through the sheer curtains, and as she rubbed her eyes, it dawned on her that she wasn’t quite sure where she was….

As she looked around the room and her eyes fell on him, it all came back to her. Dennis sat in the boudoir chair watching her with fiery eyes of interest. They had been casual friends for a while, and her drunken admission to him in conversation at a party the last night that she was into [tag]submission[/tag] had gotten her an offer to spend Saturday with him. She knew him well enough to not refuse.

As she stretched he moved from the chair and silently moved towards her, taking something from behind his back as he neared her. Winding the piece of black cloth in his hands, he surprised her into stillness by placing it across her face and into her mouth, gently tying it in back, tight enough so that it dug in between her jaws a bit. Stretching out his hand in an offer of support he raised her to her feet, taking a moment to look at her in the wonderfully soft and silky teddy she had worn to bed. With a flicker of his eye and a quick wave of his hand he grasped the plunging neckline and ripped the silk right down the middle, allowing her breasts to bulge out and showing at the bottom of the rip her dark mound of pubic hair. He chuckled at the surprise in her eyes, and saw fit to speak to her.

“I know what you like, I can read it in your eyes, they are a very clear window to your soul. I can tell what you want, what you need. I happen to have complimenting needs, desires, and wants, and as so will do my best to fulfill yours while fulfilling mine. You will have little say in what goes on here, although if you feel that you cannot and will not take any more of a specific situation, then make it clear to me. Do not falsify the end of your wits or you will be punished for it.”

“Shall we begin?”

She nodded a silent yes to his awaiting gaze.

As he walked around her, he grabbed the low cut back of her teddy and ripped it down the back, and with a swift pull broke the snaps at the crotch and let the shredded garment fall to the floor. He paused to look at her shape, very soft and lovely, her milky skin, and warm brown hair. “Follow me,” he said as he placed a hand on her shoulder and walked out of the room. She wasn’t sure where they were going, or if anyone else was in the large house…

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After the Gulf War the Corps had no place to put me. I made the error of accepting a promotion to Major in July, I figured this war was going to happen, I might as well be in charge. I should have stayed at the comfortable rank of Captain, but I guess I wanted to be a big shot. The war was over, I was sitting around waiting for the next thing to do. Col. McBride called me in and told me that I had been RIF’d (Reduction In Force) I was out of a job. 18 1/2 years in the U.S. Marine Corps down the fucking drain.

After some soul searching I decided it was time to go back to school and work on my Doctorate. I fucking hate school, but I hate hanging around looking for something to do, even more. So, I ended up in Texas. Big fucking deal. Uncle Sam has to pay the freight so who cares. I end up living in an apartment complex full of snot-nosed mama’s boy types. I had never seen such a bunch of weird fuckers in my life. 12 weeks on the Island and I could make men out of these little homo bastards…or I’d end up killing them. After all, that’s what Marines do, they kill, and they die. It’s a great job. But this Marine is going to be smart now, he’s gonna be a P H fucking D.

I buckled down and went to work. I had a mission, I had a goal, I had no choice but to finish, and finish I will, in true Marine Corps fashion. Things got better, I was not so repulsed by the assholes who walked around wearing sweatshits that say B.U.M. Equipment and wearing their fucking hats backwards. What the fuck exactly is B.U.M. equipment? Is that some shit that the fudge-packers use? And if you can’t wear your cover squared away, get rid of the fucker, and get a fucking haircut too!

Let me tell you a little more about Major Warren Mansfield. I was born to be a Marine. I spent my lifetime getting to where I am today. I worked hard, I played every sport there was, and I fought every asshole in my school just so I could learn to live with pain. I went to college and got my degree, then off to the University of Science Music and Culture (U.S.M.C.) 12 weeks at Parris Island, the best, most memorable days of my life. I was hit, I was kicked, I was slapped, punched and pissed on. I ate constantino wire and pissed napalm. I learned to do what I was bred to do. I learned how to be a killing machine. One year later I lead my troops into a small village in Viet Nam, and I got to see first hand what a blown-up skull looks like. Sure I was a young Lieutenant, but I felt like a seasoned war dog by the time we secured that little piece of commie heaven.

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Slowly, he began removing her clothing, his hand gently caressing her soft skin. She moaned lightly as his hands reached beneath her top and massaged her breasts. Her legs parted instinctively as he explored beneath her lacy briefs. She glanced into the mirror above them and studied the immense contrast between her petite body against his naked Adonis form.

Soon her clothing lay in a crumpled pile beside the bed. The room was hot and steamy, and their bodies glistened with moisture. He stood in front of her, held her hands above her head, and told her to kneel down. As she descended, her tongue quietly explored his muscular chest. Lower and lower she went, until her mouth engulfed the tip of his erect manhood.

He moaned with delight as he held her arms apart and shackled them to fur-laced handcuffs dangling from the ceiling. He removed himself from her, took her nylons from the floor, and gagged her. The ankle shackles on the edges of the bed quickly held her legs apart. He then lotioned her body and his with baby oil, his fingers exploring her curves and penetrating her crevices of desire. Her sounds of ecstasy were getting louder, but still muffled by her gag.

He took an artificial phallus from the hot water, and beginning at her mouth, slowly moved it downwards. It moved past her neck, down between her breasts, and past her navel. She closed her eyes in anticipation of the piercing of her womanhood. Instead, he only slightly parted her now moist lips. Slowly but firmly he inserted the warm, pulsating rod into her other orifice. Her gasp of surprise soon turned into sounds of desire as he plunged it deeper and deeper while several fingers of his other hand stimulated her tunnel of love. Her body squirmed in pleasure, but her movements were futile against the chains that bound her.

When she had been filled, he again moved in front of her and positioned himself. He entered her slowly, savoring how easy her juices have made the entry. Her breathing and gasping were getting heavier, in rhythm with his powerful thrusts. His hands roamed her body, squeezing her breasts mercilessly and pulling and twisting the phallus stuffed into her.

Her arms and legs fought a useless battle against the shackles that held her open to his pounding, now faster and deeper. She thrashed about wildly, becoming one with the chains that bind her. She exists only to please as he ravages her with ever increasing intensity. Her screams of joy crashed through the ball tied tightly between her lips.

The room was spinning as she threw her head back and looked up. In the dream-like image above she saw a slave, bound and gagged, under complete control of her master. He was rewarding her virginity with the most sinful pleasure. He too was in a spinning room, his body tight and shone with sweat. All his essence was entering and leaving her. Finally, with a yell of triumph, he shot into her deepest regions, his juice mixing with hers. She let out a last, exhausted moan, overwhelmed by the fires that pierced her.

He held her close for a moment, then withdrew from her. He took the second phallus from the hot water and with one hand rammed it completely into her while the other pushed the first all the way in. Through the gag she begged him to stop. A leather strap was tied around her waist, and a second strap looped from front to back. The rods that continued to heat and vibrate are now held in. With another series of straps her breasts were held up and tied. He then took three small chains, all connected at one end. At the ends of the chains are clamps. Two clamps grip her nipples, while the third grips her clitoris. He turns off the lights and leaves the room, to attend to his next slave.

She is now left in the darkness, still chained and gagged, with the rods moving deeper into her and the clamps tightening their grip. Her body glistened like an angel, her arms and legs held apart as if she was in flight. She writhed and moaned uselessly, feeling the build-up of the tidal wave about to wash over her. As moans of delight drifted in from outside, she closed her eyes to fantasize what must be happening in the other rooms.

–end–

anonymous author

I remember the good old days of flying, when the great 747 fleet first graced the skies. It was the peak of the jet age and the world looked on us as the elite of the elite. We set the standard by which all commercial flying was judged. I recall how honoured I was the day I received my flight attendant wings, my first flight, my promotion to purser. Ahh yes, the past was beautiful. No low budget airlines, no TWA scabs, no imminent fear of bankruptcy. We flew with pride and proved our service was the best. I worked the New York to Frankfurt run as often as I could. Of course, that one day still stands out strongly in my memory.

We were late boarding for the flight. I had gone from the plane into the passenger waiting area. There I noticed him for the first time. He was so handsome — tall, brown hair, high-cheek boned with deep blue eyes and manly tanned face. His mustache accented his perfect smile. Our eyes met. I felt like a school boy who is having the first crush on his teacher. As I walked back to the plane, I glanced back at him only to find him looking at me, grinning like someone with a secret he is aching to tell. I notice he was tall and well framed, even in his business suit.

I returned to my post in the first class cabin and waited to see if he would be seated near my position. Alas, he was not amongst the first class group. I sighed as we closed the doors. One of the stewardess in the aft of the economy cabin called me to come to the rear galley. I carefully checked each passenger as I walked down the aisle, trying to give the appearance that I was inspecting seat belts when in reality I was looking for him. I was perplexed as I failed to find him. The disappointed look disappeared from my face as I walked back towards the first class cabin. There, in seat 23A, was my handsome stranger.

“Excuse me,” he asked, “but what is the flying time to Frankfurt?” I laughed and replied with the 7 and 1/2 hour flight time along with the complete routing that flight 66 would be taking that evening. He thanked me and as I told him I hope I could be of service to him during the flight, he chuckled saying, “I’m sure you will be.”

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Well, it was Thursday afternoon. Almost the end of another long day at work. As Amy passed my desk she said, “Cheer up – dinner time soon.” She and I had begun to share dinner together on Thursdays as we are almost neighbors and, being recently divorced, enjoy visiting. I replied with a tired smile, “I know – if I can survive that long!” Little did I realize what was soon to be in store for me.

Five o’clock came after what seemed an eternity and we were heading home together in the car. As we came inside the house, she said, “Why don’t you go ahead and change, I’ll start the pasta?” I agreed and went off toward the bedroom. I began removing my blazer suit: hung my blazer in the closet; unbuttoned my blouse and tossed it into the laundry basket; kicked off my pumps and wiggled my tired feet; unzipped my skirt and put it over the chair; unrolled my hose and tossed them on top of the blouse, removed my bra and panties and tossed them also.

I went to into the bathroom to wash up but before I could start the water Amy came in. “What are doing?” I asked. She had never seen me undressed before now. She grabbed my wrists and before I could react she had handcuffed my wrists together behind my back. “What the fuck are you doing!!” I yelled. She answered, “I’m going to give you what you deserve slut. I’m tired of the way you tease the men at work! You and your slutty clothes!! Where do you get off coming on to the guys like you do?? Wearing no bra, and skirts to show off your pussy – you must be a slut or whore!!” I was shocked speechless by what she was saying.

She pulled me over to the bed and tied my ankles to the corner bedposts. She then tied a piece of cord to each wrist and then to each bedpost at the headboard. As she unlocked the handcuffs, she pulled tight on the cords and my wrists were then securely tied also. I was very scared and began struggling against the bonds she had tied, but it was no use – they were very tight. She then placed a ball gag in my mouth and fastened it with a leather strap. I was very terrified now. There I was: tied spread-eagled to the bed and gagged. I couldn’t move or yell!

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