Blogroll
Wired Pussy WMV Video Gallery Update
- Ashley Fires plays a naughty doctor abusing her patients in the psych ward
- Puma Swede gets tag teamed by two sadistic femdoms!
- Two hot blondes in crazy predicament. They must stay perfectly still while they cum on the sybian to avoid shocking themselves
- Kelly Divine gets her big ass spanked, shocked and fucked in lesbian BDSM scene
- Rain Degree is transported to another planet with a series of mind-blowing, non-stop, uncontrollable orgasms. Deep and hard ass fucking with a fucking
Device Bondage WMV Video Gallery Update
- Big titted MILF with 34FF boobs is bound, whipped and tickled!
- Two girls suffer though an intense BDSM live show. All action happens live with no cuts! Isis Love co-tops!
- Hot blond with HUGE tits gets them bound hard and fucked to many orgasms while in bondage!!
- Big titted flexible blond, is bound and suspended in a custom bondage device! Great breast and nipple torture.
- Hot blond is bound in a custom metal bondage device, has her nipples tortured and made to cum!
The Bartender and the Slave
I was a bartender. It was a job I loved. I could usually find the kind of woman I wanted to play with by talking to them and sniffing out their submissive sides. So many women who came into bars alone were looking not just for sex, but for really rough sex, and I could read them well. That’s how I found my slaves. I would engage them in conversation and eventually get them to talk about sex, what they liked. I would bring up spanking and bondage and if I saw that spark, I knew I had them. Sometimes I would play with them for a while just a little roughly and concentrated more on the humiliation side. I would tell them to come back to the bar dressed just so, sit on the barstool with skirt raised and naked underneath, spread their legs. I would make them lift their blouses and reach over the bar and play with their tits and nipples. Eventually I would take them home and hurt them, oh how I loved to hear them scream and beg for more pain.
One day Sarah came into the bar and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was one of them, but she wouldn’t give in to it or to me. But she kept coming back anyway. Deliberately not sitting at the bar, trying to pick up other guys, but always looking back at me. So tonight I got another bartender to cover, and I walked over to her. I told the guy she was with that the bitch was mine and I grabbed her by the hair and took her to my van, threw her in the back and chloroformed her and took her home.
Now I sat in my chair looking at her, all tied up like that, arms stretched up over her head wide apart, legs wide tied to the spikes in the floor. Tits tied tightly, turning darker and darker as I watched. As I sat there I thought I can do anything I want to her and my cock jumped. She was whimpering terribly and I thought about gagging her, but I really wanted to hear her scream and no one could hear her anyway. Yes now she was whimpering, but soon she would be screaming and I would be smiling. I wanted to hurt her, hurt her bad. She deserved it for snubbing me the way she did. And as I sat there I looked at my table of implements wondering what to use first.
The Debt II
Bangkok, Thailand
A man walked through the door of the building. It was a filthy establishment. He looked to the stage and saw a young woman – sixteen or seventeen by the looks – being raped. She was fighting it, but it was obvious that the men would have their way regardless of how she felt.
The man approached the bar. He ordered a whisky and got it, in a glass so filthy he was almost afraid to drink it.
“What the hell,” he thought. “If this doesn’t kill me, the damn cirrhosis will.”
Looking at the stage, he waved to the bartender.
“I thought there were three sisters working here,” he said in heavily accented Thai.
“They are up next,” the bartender said. “In about five minutes from the look of it.”
The girl was choking. One of her rapists had shoved his dick too far down her throat and was having difficulty getting it back out. As the audience watched, she turned blue, went into convulsions, and died. To the man’s amazement, at least half of the audience was clapping politely. This definitely was a strange culture.
After the stage was cleaned up, three young women came out. According to the MC, they were sisters. They were Elizabeth (20 years old), Melinda (18 years old), and Amy (18 years old). Other than the man, they were the only white people in the Asian-filled building.
The oldest one waved at someone off-stage and a man came out leading a horse. After tying reins to a ring in the floor, the man left. Elizabeth immediately sunk to her knees and started sucking the horse’s dick. While she was doing that, Melinda opened a can of lard someone had handed her and started coating her right hand and forearm. Once the arm was completely covered, the 18-year-old started forcing her arm up her sister’s ass. The fact that it did not require too much effort (and the fact that Elizabeth never slowed down as she continued giving the horse a blowjob) indicated that this was not the first time the 20-year-old had had that done to her.
The youngest sister, Amy, started working her fist into Elizabeth’s pussy. none of the girls looked overly enthusiastic, but they were not fighting it either. Read the rest of this entry »
Griselda
- Discovery
There can be few places as deceptive as Nether Slype. The churches are well attended and the all children say their prayers. Such presumably innocent pleasures as the fete, the sack race, and the village pantomime are milestones in its calendar. There are also summer and winter sports gatherings, though all these events, I later learned, are curiously unique to the village. There are two pubs, a school, two shops — one with a post office — a tea rooms where the old ladies gossip, and a Saturday market where you can buy anything from a home-made cake to an antique grandfather clock. The village garage takes forever to fix your car, the mobile bank comes once a week, and the small library boasts the 1974 edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica. The few Saturday-night drunks are harmless; there is no vandalism and no rowdiness, which is as well, because Jack, the village bobby, couldn’t handle more than the mildest altercation.
Nether Slype nestles among wooded hills, and the woods encroach into it. It is a place of nooks and crannies, green shades, cool shadows, high hedges, privacy, and footways. There are bridleways where big-bottomed, bouncing-bosomed girls ride their ponies and other things besides — very vigorously. The long, curling, hedge-rowed lanes are overarched with heavy branches of wimpling leaves. The river murmurs under the mediaeval bridge, flowing fresh and clean, down from the higher hills on the Welsh borderland. You’ll see an occasional fly-angler there, standing midstream in his waders, his fly whipping back and forth across the sparkling water; but their numbers are few and they’re all local, for no one comes to Nether Slype to fish; in fact, hardly anyone comes to Nether Slype at all.
Nearly all the villagers marry within the community — and they firmly believe in marriage. I am aware of the commonly held urban belief that rural folk are interbred, but there is little risk of that in Nether Slype, with its population of twelve hundred, and Long Wallop, two miles up the valley, with a further six hundred, not to mention Threshers Bottom, over the hill, with another five hundred. Therefore, as I’ve learned, few in this hidden, tucked-away place look beyond the three villages for a mate, which might account for a number of their local quirks. Read the rest of this entry »
Brothers and Sisters: A Revised Episode
Page 1.
More than half an hour had passed since the last of her daughter’s whimpering had subsided which was an hour after her screams were at their fiercest. I finally permitted her mother, Nora, to stand outside the unlocked bathroom door where Kitty hid inside. Hid inside from any further abuse from me, their kidnapper and her earlier tormentor.
Nora knocked ever so softly.
‘Kitty. Kitty, it’s your mother. I want you to come out.’
There was complete silence as we both waited for a response, me in heightened anticipation. Such mother daughter moments were precious and irreplaceable.
Nora knocked slightly louder and faster.
‘Kitty, please come out. Come out or I’ll come in instead.’
Kitty objected quickly.
‘No, Mom, no. Don’t come in.’
‘Why? Why not sweetheart? Why?’
‘Please Mom, please, because, because I don’t want you to see me. Not this way. Is he still out there? Is he out there with you? I don’t want you to see what he did to me.’
Nora directed her mother’s instinctive fury my way.
‘You bastard. What did you do to my daughter? How did you make her scream? You filthy bastard. What did you do to her? Why doesn’t she want me to see her?’
I was prepared for her anger, for her resistance, in that I had my trusty twenty-two pistol in hand, the one I’d used to kidnap them with several hours earlier and two hundred miles removed. I’d grabbed them in the underground parking garage of a swanky hotel where they were attending a benefit for Lymphoma, a form of cancer with a high survival rate, and they were dressed to the nines in their finest finery. I kept the gun pointed in Nora’s general direction, often aiming at her pussy area.
‘Nothing she can’t live with or without for that matter, and the same goes for you.’ I responded to Nora’s outrage.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. What are you talking about?’
‘Get together with your daughter and you’ll see, you’ll find out.’
‘Kitty. Kitty if you don’t come out I’m coming in, so please sweetheart, please honey..’
Page 2.
After ten seconds we heard a rustle at the door knob as it turned ever so slowly. The door opened at an even greater snail’s pace and finally, at last, Kitty emerged from her hidey hole.
Zara: Pierced and Branded Slave
Part One
Zara had no idea what she was getting into. She had agreed to go out with Bret
only because her agent had asked her.
Zara was your typical straving actress desperate to get ahead in Hollywood, and
desperately in need of that elusive first break. She had to literally wrestle
with Bret, just to get him to stop kissing her. Another casting couch affair,
Zara muttered to herself.
At least Bret was a different producer than most: he called her a cab and gave
her fare to get home.
But that was six hours ago. The cabbie never had any intention of driving Zara
home; he was another lackey on the payroll of the producer Bret. And he had been
instructed to drive into a dark alley and incapacitate poor Zara. Having worked
these jobs for Bret before, the “cabbie” was more than a match for the pretty
young thing.
When Zara regained consciousness, she immediately felt a tremendous throbbing in
her head where the cabbie had landed the handle of a gun. She meekly opened her
eyes to find that she was in the center of some meticulously adorned prison
cell. It was basically four gray walls with a wide range of assortment torture
devices. Zara recognized only a handful, and of the others she would have
prefered to have been ignorant.
“Well, I see, my proud little plaything has opened her eyes again,” Bret said as
he opened the steel door; the only way in and the only way out as far as Zara
could tell.
Bret was still wearing the suit and tie combo he had on earlier and he simply
stood there admiring the captured beauty.
Zara was still fully clothed and her hands were shackled to chains that led up
into the ceiling. Her legs were slightly spread as her ankles were chained to
eyebolts on the concrete floor. Bret smiled and licked his lips as he
concentrated on her exotic good looks.
At about 5′9″, Zara was above average height, and with her 5-inch heels right
now, she stood easily at 6 feet tall. Her legs needed little help, but they were
sculpted even more by the black high heels that came up to her ankles and then
through a series of tight black straps, wrapped around her lower leg up to her
knees. Bret wondered if Zara had a natural fetish for bondage. If she did, he
planned on surpassing any soft bondage dream she might have had.
Above her knees, her simple black dress hovered, although it suffered a few
scratches in the transition from the cab to the cell. There was a slit that
creeped almost to mid-thigh, and this trace of flesh drew another inaudible
sound of approval from Bret.
It was obvious to Bret, she was not wearing a bra, but even so her breasts were
large enough to make an impression on the fabric. And with the chains pulling on
her upper body, Zara’s breasts were given additional, seductive lift. Either she
was excited or scared because her nipples were evidently hard pressed into her
dress.
ZERO – the training of a slave
CHAPTER ONE
Introduction to Slavery
The girl woke with a start. She could not see a thing and realised that she was wearing a blindfold. She tried to take it off and found that it was locked in place. She realized that the blindfold was the only item of clothing that she had on. She was totally naked. She was beginning to panic. No one had seen her naked body besides her Doctor since she was a little girl. Where was she? She tried to stand up and quickly realized that she could not. There was only 4 feet of head room. As she tried to explore she realized that she was in a cage that was 4 feet in every direction. As she put her hands between the bars of her cage she realized that the cage must be suspended in midair as she could not feel a floor beneath the cage, nor any solid walls. She felt the cage rock as she moved.
She tried to think. How did she get here? The last thing she remembered was celebrating her 18th birthday with her boyfriend Stan McManus. Stan was handsome, rich and handsome, the star quarterback on the football team and guard on the basketball team. She loved to watch Stan play basketball when seeing his well muscled frame brought a tingling feeling between her legs. She loved Stan, and he loved her, enough that he even joined her in taking a vow of chastity until marriage. She felt it was important to save herself for their wedding night and Stan, rich handsome Stan, went along with her on this, as he did on so many other things. Of course she was the most beautiful girl in the town and Stan enjoyed showing her off to all his friends.
But what happened? She was taking a walk with Stan on the evening of her birthday. They were walking in the woods when she allowed Stan to give her a Birthday Kiss. All of a sudden she heard a loud klunk and Stan fell to the ground as if he had been shot. She started to scream when she felt hands around her arms and a smelly handkerchief was placed over her nose. She had been knocked out. Where was she? Was Stan alive? What did her abductors want? She made up her mind that she would defend her body as best as she could and try to remain faithful to Stan. She tried once more to find a way out, but after a few minutes the panic rose within her and she started to scream.All of a sudden she heard a loud booming voice. “SILENCE!! You are here to be trained for your new life as a slave. You will obey. You will not speak, scream or ask questions. You are permitted to scream while being punished but you may not use the word “no” or ask for mercy. As a matter of fact, when being punished, or when being tortured for our amusement, after your initial yell of pain, you must recite the following. “Thank you MY LORD, may I ask for another?” You are a slave in training, a SLIT. You are less than nothing. For the time being you will answer to ZERO, for that is what you are. As you progress in your training, you may earn the privilege of a name. Right now you are ZERO and have no privileges. You will piss when you are told, you will shit when you are told. Disobedience will be punished. You will not play with yourself, nor will you cum unless ordered to do so, for our amusement. Your sole purpose in life is to give us pleasure. You will be trained for that purpose. You will thank us for taking the trouble to train you. You will address us as “MY LORD” or “MY LADY” as appropriate. Most of all, you will obey all orders as quickly and enthusiastically as if your life depended on it. We will not kill you. We will inflict on you such pain as to make you wish you were dead. However, as you are trained you will learn to enjoy your service and you will earn various rewards and privileges. Now, prepare to begin your training.” Zero felt the cage being lowered. She did know what she was in for and was more scared than she had ever been in her life.
Zimbabwean Revenge
Ever since blacks came to power in 1980 in Rhodesia and the country became Zimbabwe, whites who didn’t emigrate have experienced hard times. Years of white rule left the black majority with a taste for revenge and retaliation. Now that they have the power, blacks have harassed whites, especially over the issue of land ownership.
White land owners have been threatened, bullied, arrested and had their land confiscated or “purchased’ by government over their opposition. Whites singled out as “troublemakers” and “racists” have been subjected to harassment and abuse. This is the story of one such couple, Erik and Pamela Pieters.
When their land was “bought” by the government, Erik, working with a “radical” law firm, filed suit to contest the sale and get his property back. He also wrote letters to the “resistance” newspapers criticizing the government and threw his support to opposition political parties.
This earned him the attention of the government’s state security forces. Pieters was brought in for questioning more than once. During these “interviews” he was browbeaten and warned to curtail his opposition to the government.
But Erik was a stubborn man and he kept writing letters and filing claims. The word came down to intensify the pressure. He was again picked up, but this time he was brought to a camp outside Bulawayo, run by Joshua Mutumbami. The facility had been labeled by Western newspapers as a “torture camp”.
Zippers
I have been instructed to write this as my case study for the files, for permanent documentation of what has happened to me and to act as a CV for any future ‘employers’
My name is Anita and always has been. Some of the other girls had their names changed, but they liked mine so I’ve kept it. Looking back 9 months ‘Anita’ was a very different person. I was living an existence. I lived in the same town I’d grown up in; I never knew my father and my mother had died when I was 19, leaving everything to me. We had not been wealthy but I did have a small flat to my name and could support myself by working as a secretary. I had a few friends but an unexciting life. I never met anyone new and didn’t go out much. I’d had a couple of bad experiences with men in my late teenage years and since my mother had died I’d not dated anyone. I was actually uncomfortable around men, as if they were another species that I couldn’t relate to. I’m not beautiful so it was easy for me to escape attention and get on with my work. It was when I was 24, 9 months back that I got home one day and had a nervous breakdown.
I felt like my life was meaningless, here I was, apparently in the prime of my life coming home and going to bed at 9 O’clock with a mug of hot chocolate. I dressed in the same clothes I’d worn for years, a brown suit and flat shoes for work. No make-up. I felt like there was no way anyone would find me attractive. I would dream of meeting a man who would treat me like a sex goddess, who would be consumed by passion and fuck me wherever he could. I imagined that I was glamorous and irresistible and then I would open my eyes again and realise that I wasn’t.
That evening I had vowed that I couldn’t go on like that. That I had to change something; that I had to see someone and ask for help. I didn’t want to waste my life. I also felt though that I was a hopeless cause and that it would take a miracle to undo what I’d turned into. My friends seemed quite happy to be single and didn’t seem interested in men at all, so I didn’t think that they’d be much help. I was unsure about how to start anything and it was blind fate that had brought me to the personal ads in the evening paper.
‘You. Yes, YOU can become a sex goddess. Treat yourself to a personality makeover and start living now!’ – Dr Vivienne Black, sex therapist, confidence coach and expert in seduction; welcomes ‘lost causes!’ First consultation half price!
It was like the paper was speaking to me, I was actually shaking as I copied the number into my diary. I had gone to bed feeling weepy but at last I had some hope.
‘How about after work then? ‘, the lady on the phone was lovely, very gentle and easy to talk to. My heart was pounding as I made my first appointment for that day with Dr Black herself. She had been warm and accommodating and had said that if I came to her clinic I could start my first session at 6.30.
I’d finished all my work on time, said goodbye to my boss and nervously plotted a route to where her clinic was. It was actually a bit out of the way and on the front of an industrial estate with nothing to draw attention to itself, but it looked clean and tidy. I’d had to check if it was the right address but then saw a small plaque on the front door which confirmed everything.
Zombie Sex Slave
Zombie Sex Slave: Part 1 – Luck
She was broke. She had never been in such a dire situation in her life. What were her options? Asking help from her parents was out of the question – any “gift” from them came with heavy chains of expectations attached. The rent was due and she probably could get by with giving her landlord a partial payment …but right now she had nothing. Quitting her job had not been a good idea; she probably should have kept pushing her lawsuit and sue her employer as her friends advised her to, but she just didn’t want to deal with it… ultimately she just wanted to forget about the harassment and move on. Besides, it was her word against her boss, and he probably would have gotten others to back him up. She was not out to take on the world, she just wanted to get by… on her own. But to accomplish that, she needed to find another job, and fast.
Kim picked the biggest office tower around and went floor to floor filling out applications for a receptionist. Making a game out of it helped…how many applications could she fill out in an hour? She even timed each stop; she was averaging about fifteen minutes per application. The game made it seem less tedious. When she got home, she would compare how she did canvassing this building to the last, and so on.
Then she struck gold. Halfway through the 5th floor, she filled out an application for a business that she knew nothing about. They interviewed her on the spot and asked when she could start. Tomorrow! She was giddy as she left the office, thinking how things were finally looking up! Now for the immediate crisis of raising fast money before her first paycheck – she had to get her rent paid. She also needed to get something in her stomach, and as she was leaving for the bus, she caught site of a sandwich shop in another office building on the way. As she passed a bulletin-board in the lobby a message caught her eye…
Zsuzu
Chapter 1. The meeting
“Suzie! Suzie stop! Suzie, you stop right there do you hear!!! SUZIE!! SUZIE!! SUZIE STOP!!! STOP!!! NNNOOOOOO!!!”
A passing cyclist heard the screams coming from a portly black woman as she struggled to run after a little girl who, heedless of the heavy traffic thundering along the narrow road, was running dangerously close to the kerb. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the woman trip and fall heavily, spilling her shopping. The little girl of mixed race turned and laughingly cried out, “You can’t catch me now Granny!” Oblivious to the danger, she suddenly she veered to the road. Taking in the situation the cyclist pushed the pedals harder to try and catch the infant. On the very edge of the kerb, Suzie paused and once more turned to call out to her grandmother. That call saved her life. The cyclist braked alongside her, preventing her further entry into the road.
Suzie looked up, startled and saw the man leap off his bike and grab her around the waist. She screamed. To her he seemed awesome. Not just old like her granny but he had a long beard and wore baggy trousers and a woolly bobble hat. As she was about to scream again, the man’s soft but forceful voice spoke to her, “Calm down, little one. You’re not hurt but it seems your granny might be. I’m going to lift you on my bike and we’re going to see how granny is doing. Okay?” Without waiting for a reply, he sat the girl on the saddle and wheeled his cycle to where the black lady was trying to get up.
“Hang on a moment, I’ll give you a hand,” the cyclist said as he parked his bike against a wall, “Just want to make sure this young lady doesn’t try to run off again.” Slipping a bungy cord from his saddlebag the cyclist clipped it around Suzie’s body and held the free end as they walked to the woman.
B/D BDSM blackmail bondage college consensual D/s enema exhibition Extreme F+/f+ F/m fisting Forced hair humiliation incest interracial lactation lingerie M/f mc modification nc pregnant Rape Rated R real consensual reluctant romantic S/M scatology Serious slavery snuff spanking spoof Swallowing teen Tit Torture torture toys violent voyeurism WaterSport
WP Cumulus Flash tag cloud by Roy Tanck and Luke Morton requires Flash Player 9 or better.
Latest Topics
A WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR The year end...
Chapter 1 - Now Comes a Wanderer It goes...
Chapter 1 The new office still had the...
Spending most of the year away from your...
"If you loved me, you would do it." As I...
The first time we’d actually met in...
Boys competed eagerly for places in the Cady...
My wife Mary and I had married young. She...
Setting the scene: My name is David Jones...
My name is Allura and the following is a...