Posts Tagged ‘exhibition’
House of Singing Wind
Chapter 1 - Now Comes a Wanderer It goes against my better judgment to talk to her, much less have her in this house. The decision is not mine, however. This is the work of Maelstrom. And as long as he is writing the checks that make my life possible here at Singing Wind, who am I to argue? It is a very good life. She is, young, perhaps late twenties, early thirties, blonde with perfect legs; feet on one end and ass on the other. The fact that her ass can only be considered a 9 ½ is only because I have never seen a true 10. Meeting her at the door to my study, I offer my arm to escort her in, the perfect gentleman. I purposely situate her body out of my line of sight. I want only to concentrate on her face. It is not a beautiful face. No, not beautiful, Beautiful is too bland an adjective. She is interesting, intelligent, and smooth. These adjectives work. . She is magnificent, utterly magnificent. Perhaps you think I exaggerate, but this is not the case. I have made a life study of women and fancy myself a connoisseur of feminine flesh and character. To put it in the vernacular of my trade, this is a five million dollar cunt. And this was the strangest recruitment interview I have ever conducted. “…and he told me I could count on you to fully acclimate me to the facility.” She told me in a flat tone, delivered with even a flatter look on her face. She was sizing me up and at the same time, trying to maintain her dignity. Dignity is a strange thing to women. This [...]
The Double Scissor Snip – Nice And Clean!
"If you loved me, you would do it." As I herd her words, I nodded in agreement. My lesbian lover had talked over and over about modifying me, starting with my hair. "I want you to be bald." She had said on so many occasions, "I love the thought of you walking down the street with me, with no hair on your head, people staring at you because you look so different, wondering why a woman would have no hair." "Please." She said again. I lifted the scissors and cut through my pony tail and handed it to her. Tears were in her eyes. "Thank you so much! Please let me go all the way." Now I had given in to losing the length of my hair I was not that bothered about the rest. "You can do it." She kissed me and jumped up, went and fetched a razor and plugged it in the wall. "Get on your knees!" She said excitedly. I knelt down, my eyes stinging with tears that she was too excited to notice, but as I bowed my head and watched the floor knowing I would see my hair falling away, I felt a swelling in my clitoris. I reached down to rub it. "No!" She said sharply, "You know you’re not supposed to play with it - remember what the doctor said!" (more...)
Beth and Ethan
Boys competed eagerly for places in the Cady Stanton Riding Program. Freshmen and sophomores, called bugs, wore drab gray uniforms and worked under the supervision of the Bug Mother and her assistants. At the end of their sophomore year, the bugs were assessed for size and conditioning by the Program Director, Bug Mother, and the senior jockeys. Most were rejected. Each year a eight or ten are found large and strong enough to serve as possible mounts. They were sent to learn about tack and saddles at an intense summer program under the direction of experienced riders and in the Fall, are assigned to a trainer. Ethan’s mother was deeply interesting in racing and his house was filled with racing souvenirs and paraphernalia. No one was surprised when Ethan tried out for the Riding program. He was known as a hard worker but a mount needed adequate size to carry a rider. Many were surprised by the growth spurt at the end of his Freshman year and his qualifications were obvious at the end of his Sophomore year. His mother had chosen her sperm donor wisely. That summer, he learned to bear a Pony’s saddle, bridle, and control rods. He was worked hard by the experienced equestriennes. He quickly gained strength and stamina to match his great heart. Ethan wore the blue and gold Suffragette colors when Beth, a new freshman, first saw him. He stood proudly in his tack and saddle. Sheridan, a senior girl, ordered him down and he dropped smartly to one [...]
From a Man to a Bitch
My wife Mary and I had married young. She was 19 and I was 20. We had our two kids in the first two years of marriage. I being a fairly small guy had what they call a small man complex. I was determined to be the king of my castle. As a result I was a tyrant to Mary and my son and daughter. When both kids were in school, Mary went to school and got her cosmetology license. As young kids they feared me and as teenagers they resented me. I forced them to leave and be on their own as soon as each reached the age of 18. They kept in touch with Mary but never wrote or called me. Not even on my birthday or at Christmas. While Mary was stuck raising our kids, I hung out in bars after work and cheated on her with any bimbo who would have me. I did work hard as a carpenter and did as much overtime work as I could get. I paid off my house in only 15 years and when I needed a new pickup I could pay cash for it. My wife and kids were well fed and clothed and I felt they should be grateful for that. They owed me for everything they got. Then one day disaster struck. I was standing on a two by four while trying to nail a roof truss in place on a two story house we were building when I slipped and fell. I fell 10 feet landing on a two by four on what would be the ceiling of the first floor. I painfully had landed with one leg on either side of the board and blacked out from the pain. Unconscious I then slid off and fell another 1 feet to the floor [...]
Shaved and Snipped – Her Big Operation!
I had met my girlfriend a year before my journey began, she was tall and slim and had black hair to her shoulders and like me shaved her cunt bald. She was dominant and I loved it, she was a doctor who owned a private clinic and loved to 'treat' me, we had discussed ultimate fantasies for a while and then she decided it was time we would live it out. I was so excited it made my 'problem' worse, my clitoris was swollen all the time and needed constant attention. I had been diagnosed with a mild to moderate form of constant arousal syndrome and she was aware of this. We had discussed ways to 'alleviate' this problem of my troublesome clit, she told me the clitoris was a wonderful organ but when things went wrong it was capable of causing a lot of trouble, so I needed surgery. Of course I was willing! She asked me to be ready for an 'exam' and I was to be naked on the bed, with 'down below' shaved smooth and my legs open so the first things she saw when she came through the door was shaven cunt. I was ready and excited, she came in and I was on my back, my gash all swollen and pink, my clit aching and red and sticking right out. "How are we today?" She was wearing her white coat. "I got pain in my cunny again." "Let me see." She spread me wide. "Are you still getting painful constant arousal? "Yes, all the time, I hate it!" "You have a swollen clitoris. It is terribly swollen, it indicates you have an illness that I must treat. You need orgasm and then some [...]
MONTANA MAN
It was only men in Charley's in those days, no females allowed, but for the one exception. No women's lib then to make Charley let them in, not in Montana anyway. Not out there in that godforsaken Divot country. So Charley's was just men, and not too many of them, either. Especially in the daytime, though there was more and more coming in in the afternoons once the plant closed and the logging was down and it seemed like everybody was laying off. The bars were the only places business was getting better. Charley's was maybe not exactly a bar, but something like it. Kind of a local hangout place, like a club only it wasn't private. But if you were a stranger you usually left pretty quick after you got your drink or whatever, because Charley wasn't friendly to strangers. The exceptions about no women was when Ramsey Boyce brought his wife in. It only happened once in a while, and there was no way of telling when it was going to be. Those times could be a month apart, could be three or four months, could be six. No pattern to it. Nobody ever knew, if they stopped into Charley's some afternoon, if maybe that would be a day Ramsey would show up. With his wife. I guess everybody thought about it, though. Hoped a little. Or a lot. The regulars had more of a chance. I knew two guys anyway used to hang around Charley's every single afternoon, waiting for the time. Ramsey hardly never came into Charley's alone. He hardly went anyplace anytime, except to work. Nobody went to his [...]
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 [...]
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 [...]
Jane and Carol at the Great Slave Hunt
Chapter ONE “You'll enjoy it so much, Jane,” Carol told her enthusiastically. “Just think; a whole three weeks in role together!” Jane was dubious. Her cousin's proposal was exciting, but Jane had never role-played before strangers and she inwardly quailed at the very idea of appearing naked in public. But, deep within, a queer little thrill at the prospect stirred. Carol laughed at her. She knew very well what was troubling Jane. A veteran of several BDSM Club events, she herself had once shared the same reservations. “It isn't at all what you may think, dear!” she said earnestly. “Take it from me, BDSM Clubs are extremely tough on anything sexual; they're positively Puritanical on the point. No-one, particularly a woman, will be subject to any sexual innuendo even, or anything of that kind! And, don't forget, this will be a Femdom event; the men present will all be slaves and well under the control of their Mistresses. And also, we'll be there in animal roles, and these people are very experienced in letting people play their parts; they will think of us purely as animals; attractive and graceful animals perhaps” (she chuckled) “but animals just the same!” (more...)
Small compensations
The news spread all over Italy in seconds. Miss Natalia Firenze, the famous judge in the case against Mafia Boss Mario Botto, El signore, was dead. The media immediately suspected his hand behind her accident. Only three days before her death, a commando of 40 armed men had rescued their boss assaulting the jail, leaving behind them 17 death guards and more the one hundred injured. The connection seemed clear. But Botto was the first surprised, he was so surprised he offered 5 million Euro for anybody finding Miss Firenze, dead or alive. Hundreds, no, thousand of people started searching the small hold and the sea where her little vessel exploded. Deficient fuel system, said the police investigations; a real accident. But no one believed. And they were right. Natalia was neither dead, nor in Botto's hands. As soon as she heard about Botto's escape, she knew her live was threatened. Knowing about the dangers of being Judge in Italy she never founded a family so when it came to flee she could do without hesitations, and what better place to hide than Death. She faked her own death and escaped to the States with a false Passport. Miss Marilyn Noone, being her English good enough to fool everybody. There she decided to hide in a small village and to start another life, far away from media, fame and Italy. (more...)