Bound & Gagged

Mascara stung my eyes. Salty, chemical spiked tears tripped over my tongue. I curled my knees to my chest, hearing tape creak as it rubbed against itself and found more places to stick together, ensuring that with each and every wriggle, escape became less likely. All I could do now was make myself small as I could in the hopes that, when we finally stopped, they’d forget I was here. Continue reading “Bound & Gagged”

Under the Sea

Lydia Parsons is the love of my life. I adore her. I breathe for her. Every single moment of my life is taken up by thoughts that are dominated by her face and her voice. She asks every day what it is that makes me love her so completely, but it’s impossible to give her a definitive answer.

So I tell her something different every time. One day I told her it was the scent of honey shower gel on her skin. The next I told her it was the way her morning hair made her look like she’d used dynamite as curlers. Last time she asked me? I’d pulled her knickers down, right in the middle of our back garden, and told her I loved her because her ass is a peach and her pussy delivers the cream. Then I’d buried my face in her soft pubic hair and licked that delicious pussy until it came in my mouth. Continue reading “Under the Sea”

You Can Keep Your Jeans On

The bubbles were gone from my glass of champagne. I’d sat nursing it for almost an hour, listening to my husband chatting and guffawing with the men from the firm. They’d talked business, golf, cars and yachts, and then business again. Eleanor’s husband had ensured she had a fresh drink at hand all evening, and Zara’s was constantly asking if she was hungry. He even got up to dance with her at one point.

But Walter? He hadn’t looked at me once since he’d sat down, and the drink I was now glaring at I’d had to go and get myself.

I placed my glass back on the table and turned my head, considering my husband quietly. My Walter had always been a handsome man when he smiled. Sharp jaw, straight nose, bright eyes… and that smile. It had been enough to make me swoon once upon a time. Continue reading “You Can Keep Your Jeans On”

Glorious Hole


When the door closed behind me, the room I’d entered seemed almost dark. Settling in a chair in front of the glass partition, I wiped my damp palms on my jeans. I’d only been here once before and uncertainty was making me sweat. My friend had brought me with him that time, but only for support. I hadn’t been expected to take part in what had occurred, and that was fine by me because I wouldn’t have known where to start.

Sadly, a whole year later, I still didn’t have much of an idea.

Part of my problem was lack of practical experience, but if I was brutally honest with myself, the major factor in my ignorance was this place. My mind had been on it for twelve long months. Obsessing. Craving. Needing. Continue reading “Glorious Hole”

Come One, Come All


Watching the slow whirl of the ceiling fan above me, I wriggled impatiently in my chair. Skin squeaked against padded pvc, leather crisped and chains clinked. The sounds made me smile, so I wriggled a little more. And what a mistake that was.

My movements squeezed my labia together, spreading the fluid that slowly seeped from my vagina over my skin. It trickled down my perineum, instantly cooling, giving me an itch my bound wrists wouldn’t let me scratch. Continue reading “Come One, Come All”



Five hours. I’d been sitting on the floor for five hours. The incessant tick…tick…tick of the clock was loud in the bare walled room, slowly driving me insane, reminding me of how long I’d been made to wait.

I shifted, and the chains around my ankles clinked, chaffing like crazy. They were cold, and I was cold. The puddle I was sitting in was cold, too. It splashed my legs when I moved, and I ended up with my hand in it when I tried to redistribute my weight and slipped on the tiled floor. So, so cold, and it stank. Continue reading “Tick…Tick…Tick…”

On a Silver Platter


Opportune moments. They haven’t rolled around many times for me in my twenty seven years. I’ve never been lucky, never expected anything to just fall into my lap. Everything I have I’ve worked damned hard for. If you were to pick something of mine up and hold it in your hands, look at it, feel it… what you’ll be seeing and touching is my blood, sweat, and tears.

Now imagine how being offered something so completely new and so utterly wonderful would feel for someone like me. Not a thing, though, an encounter. Something I’ve wanted for a long time but never thought I’d get a chance to experience.

Well that’s what happened to me just a few days ago.

Continue reading “On a Silver Platter”

On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen

If there was ever going to be a guy I gave the ‘you’re the love of my life’ badge to, it would be Kris. I adored him. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him, and I’d be lying if I said he didn’t abuse that knowledge every now and again.

I didn’t mind, though, because even though he didn’t know it, I loved to please him. I lived for it, and those odd occasions when he asked me to do things that were entirely unreasonable were the times when I felt most connected to him. Continue reading “On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen”

The Nutcracker

fashion studio photo of impassioned couple. office love story.woman's legs in red classic shoes in man's hands

I felt stupid, sitting at the back of the club all on my own. Just for an hour, they’d said. We’ll only be an hour, then we’ll move on to a place you’re more comfortable with.

When our Christmas entourage had arrived at the club, I’d headed to the bar first, then straight to the table furthest away from…well, from all of it. From their howling and shrieking, from the little stages with the poles in the centre. I didn’t want to be part of this, it just wasn’t my thing.

Continue reading “The Nutcracker”