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“Come with me, Ariel.” Eric’s voice was far different than it had been in the three days since they had been married. Ariel wondered if she had done something to upset him. She hadn’t meant to do anything, and found herself filled with doubt. Was he angry because she had slipped and almost fallen during their first dance? She had pleaded for more time–after all, she had only had legs for three days.

“Where are we going?” she asked, as Eric led her down into the lower depths of the castle. She could smell the sea air and it made her think of her family, below. Although the castle was directly on the ocean, the lower depths of the castle were not dank.

“I want to show you something.”

“Are you mad at me?” She could hear far different tones in his voice.

“No, not at all. But I want to show you something that humans do. Just please, be quiet and follow me. I’m kind of nervous as it is.”

Something human! Ariel was delighted. She knew Eric wanted her to be quiet but couldn’t resist. She loved human things.

“A human thing? Really? What’s it like?”

“Well, not all humans do it. You’ll see.” He spun and speared her with his blue eyes, the same eyes that she had seen from the deck of the ship not a week ago.

Ariel was silent. But she did not have to remain silent long. Eric led her down the steps through a short hall, and then through a locked door. Ariel noticed he kept the key on a solitary ring. He opened the door and ushered her in.

The room was large, and relatively airy. Torches burned on all sides of the room, but they were recessed into the wall and unobtrusive. There were large things in the room. A cross of some sort. A table. A thing which looked like a large wooden X. A post with chains hanging from it. One entire wall was covered by a mirror. Ariel had never seen a mirror this large, not in the room Eric had put her in and certainly not in the shipwrecks she had prowled before.

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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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As I promised here is another one of my fantasies about Amy and me.

After our last session Amy is even more friendly when no one else is around. I also think that she has quit wearing panties because I don’t see any panty lines any more and sometimes I even wonder if she is wearing a bra. Like today. Amy is wearing a grey woman’s suit with a blue and black stripped silk blouse the front of which seems to move around a little more than usual. Its hard to tell since the suit jacket hides her nipples which would show were she not wearing a bra. Amy is in a playful mood today. Joking with everyone. We had some time during lunch for some conversation. She usually eats lunch out but didn’t today because she had some extra work to do. Some of the remarks she made would almost make a sailor blush. At least it did for her and me.

We both end up working late again. “This is getting to be a habit,” I said. Amy just laughed and said, “We had better be careful or people will start talking.” As if they already hadn’t, at least about Amy. I am surprised when she says to me, “How about coming to my place after work for a drink?” I said, “Sure. We’ll take your car and leave mine here. That way no one will see it at your place.” So we lock up the place and head toward her apartment.

When we arrive Amy says, “Why don’t you kick your shoes off while I go get comfortable.” So I do and prop my feet up on the coffee table. She calls from the other room, “What would you like to drink?” “Got any hard stuff?” I answer. “I can mix us up something. I’ll surprise you,” was her response. Well you could have you could have knocked me over with a feather when she came back into the room with our drinks. She definitely got comfortable. Amy was wearing this almost transparent top and a pair of short shorts. There was no question of what she was wearing under the top or shorts. That was NOTHING! Her nipples were hard and strained against the fabric of the top and the crotch of her shorts dug into her cunt showing the bulge of pussy lips and crease of her cunt slit.

She hands me one of the drinks and says, “How do you like it?” I must have been starring at her breasts because I almost spilt the drink and could just stammer, “I…I…it…it’s great.” Amy laughs and says, “No, I mean the drink.” Of course I hadn’t even tasted the drink yet. We both laugh. She sits next to me and we sip the drinks and talk about work, life, etc. The drink has its desired effect. We both begin to relax, except my cock. The longer I looked at Amy’s nipples making little bumps in the front of that top and felt the heat of her body near mine, the harder and harder my tool got. And pretty damned uncomfortable. An erect 8-inch cock doesn’t fit very well in a tight pair of pants. Especially if it’s bent in the middle. I put my arm on the back of the couch and she slides close. Her breast is now pressed against my side. The drink must have had the same effect on her as it had on me. I glance toward her crotch and it looked as though a wet spot was forming where the shorts disappeared between her legs.

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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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This is my first posting…I have more to share in the future if you like this, but must post anonymously, since I am a senior manager at a Fortune 100 company and knowledge about my extra-curricular activities would cause the end of my career.

It was hot and steamy as we arrived at the airport in Brisbane for the long journey home to Boston. This was the end of a month-long campervan vacation in Australia, and I, for one, was overjoyed to be heading back to some normalcy. For an entire month my wife Anne (I call her “the queen”) had avoided sex in the campervan, or anywhere else for that matter, since “the children are nearby.” — The irony of her way of thinking will be evident shortly.

Actually, she is not very interested in sex anytime, since she was taught by her mother that sex was “dirty.” The only time she ever saw her parents making love, they were fully clothed (hike up the skirt, dear – I’ll just quickly unzip.) Sometimes I wonder how we ever ended up with three children; one is grown and on her own, the two boys (Ralph, 17 and Trevor, 14) were with us on holiday. Because I travel regularly, I have opportunity for other sexual outlets during the year, but four plus weeks within close quarters with a demanding uptight woman does not give you much opportunity to develop alternatives.

I had some first class upgrade coupons, but at check-in time was told there was only one seat available. Anne immediately volunteered because of her “potential for a bad back,” and was seated in 3A. The boys and I were given 21K/L and 22L. This was aisle and window seating in the 2-5-2 configuration, and the last two rows in the second section. I took the single seat, and let Ralph and Trevor sit together for the first ten-hour segment of the flight.

An attractive woman dressed in a loose sweater and very tight blue jeans took the seat next to me. I could see that Ralph was uncomfortable and maybe even a little jealous, since he kept turning around to talk to me, but she was too old (29) to be interested in him. She introduced herself as Christine, “You can call me Chrissy.” She was about five foot eight, light brown (almost blond) long hair, a nice ass – firm and high, breasts with an impact even through her shapeless sweater, and obviously in good physical condition.

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