Confession
- 4 years ago
- 25
- 0
I enter the cathedral by one of the many discreet side doors that pepper the massive stone structure. I am admitted by one of the older acolytes. She refuses eye contact but peers briefly around the heavy door before ushering me in and then gently closing and bolting it. The air inside the old cathedral is noticeably colder.
The acolyte leads me down several flights of stone stairs into the bowels of the building. Eventually we stop and she opens another door. I am shown into a small ante-room in which I am to be prepared for confession. This room is much warmer. The older acolyte leaves and two younger acolytes, also female, enter.?
As usual I am bidden to remove all my clothing. The young acolytes then blindfold me. They lead me through a maze of passages and eventually down a short flight of stairs. I hear a heavy door opening. I know this is the door into the small ?Confessional?, a chamber deep in the heart of the ancient cathedral. I have no idea where this room is located. I am certain I could not find my way back.
I am guided into the Confessional and told to kneel on a thin cotton mat. The fabric barely softens the surface of the wooden floor it covers. I can feel each knot of the hard oak planks through my knees. My ankles are cuffed and secured to bolts in the floor, my wrists raised and secured with other chains to eye bolts in the ceiling.
My blindfold is removed. The two acolytes disappear. I am left kneeling with my arms hanging, waiting. Although the room is warm I shiver slightly.
As always it takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim light. I know this room well. I have spent many hours here wrestling with my conscience and seeking to expiate my guilt. The ?Confessional? is only eight feet square. It is lit by twelve large, red, perfumed candles and dominated by the heavy and brooding presence of the ?Seat of Penance?, a large throne raised on a dais, ornately carved and made of darkest ebony. Upon the seat is a cushion of crimson satin. There is also a lower platform that acts as a foot rest. My thighs press against its outer edge.
A small door opens to my right.
My immediate sensation, as always, is the overpowering perfume of latex. And then I hear the unmistakable sound of stiletto heels on the wooden floor. Sister Ruth has arrived to hear my confession.
Slowly, and very deliberately Sister Ruth takes her place on the Seat of Penance. She sits on the cushion and makes her self comfortable.
Sister Ruth is an elegant, well spoken woman. She is in her early fifties, though her high cheekbones and striking, slightly angular features give her an almost ageless if rather stern beauty. She is wearing very heavy make-up: mascara, eye shadow and thick, shiny red lipstick.
To hear confession Sister Ruth wears her black latex ?Discipline? habit. It shimmers in the candlelight. As she sits, Sister Ruth sweeps back her rubber outer habit, parting it like a cape. Under it she is wearing a black latex corset that leaves her full, firm breasts exposed. Nestling between those breasts is an exquisite silver crucifix that matches her silver cruciform earrings. The corset is inset with a large white latex cross motif. The garters on Sister Ruth?s corset hold up sheer black nylons. She is wearing pair of highly polished black leather thigh boots with wickedly thin five inch stiletto heels. On her left boot is a delicate silver anklet with a tiny crucifix attached.
To complete her ensemble Sister Ruth wears a pair of shoulder-length black latex opera gloves. In her right hand with its loop about her wrist Sister Ruth holds a thin black whip.
I keep my eyes lowered but try as I might I cannot deny my desires. Slowly, inexorably in the presence of this elegant, severe nun dressed in black latex my penis stiffens. My throat becomes dry and my face hot with a combination of guilt and arousal.
I start my confession with the time honoured admission
?Forgive me Sister Ruth for I have sinned.?
I look up into the face of Sister Ruth. It is a cruel and beautiful face. She looks down at me, her red lips twisted into a deprecating smile. She sees my penis. It is now stiff and swollen, thrusting from my body like some blasphemous embodiment of guilt.
Sister Ruth speaks, her voice a deep contralto. Her tone, as ever, is a curious mixture of understanding and amused disdain. I feel humiliated, guilt-ridden and unworthy in her presence.
?My child I know you have sinned. Your penis betrays you John, does it not? The Devil lives within your body.?
?Oh yes Sister Ruth, he does. Vile desires and lusts torment me. And I am weak Sister. I have given into the temptations of the flesh many times this past month. Help me Sister I beg you to cleanse my base and poisoned body of the evil it contains.?
?I shall help you. Sister Ruth will hear your confession and cleanse you. Are you ready to confess your sins to me my child??
?Yes Sister. I have been tempted by my perverted sexual desires and I have succumbed to those desires. I have given into my fetishism Sister Ruth. I have lusted after ladies in high heels, in lingerie, in leather and latex. I wish to touch them to run my hands over their bodies, to kiss them to have intercourse with them. I have masturbated many times with these perverted thoughts in my mind. I have looked at photographs and bought magazines. I have masturbated many, many times this past month Sister Ruth.?
?Have you finished your confession John??
There is a short silence as I summon up my courage. I look into the impassive, face of my confessor. ?No, Sister Ruth. I have not.? I look down in shame.
Another silence. The Confessional is completely still, timeless.
?I have been thinking about you Sister Ruth?. while I have masturbated.?
Sister Ruth says nothing. She simply looks at me and gradually a cruel smile comes to her face. We both know that my penance for such a confession will be onerous. After a few seconds Sister Ruth speaks.
?You will begin your penance by kissing my high heeled boots.?
I lower my body as far as the chains allow. My bonds are just long enough to allow my lips to touch the shiny black leather of Sister Ruth?s boots. I begin to cover her boots with gentle, delicate kisses. I feel the weight of my guilt begin to slip away as I lose myself in the rhythm of kissing.
Each month for six years I have been visiting this small room to kneel in confession before Sister Ruth. She offers spiritual instruction to males who suffer from the afflictions of fetishism, masochism and other perversions of the flesh. In truth I do not know to which part of the church she belongs, though I have heard that she treats several senior members of the clergy, some of them close to the Cardinal. Indeed there are rumours that the Cardinal himself takes instruction from the good Sister.
Sister Ruth imparts spiritual guidance with her whip and her high heeled boots. Under her guidance the male is taught how to control his perversions. The fetishist learns to confess his guilt and then to suffer as he indulges his perversion. Over time he learns to control his urges and finds peace within himself. I am told my therapy will last for at least twelve years, perhaps longer, because my perversion is so deeply rooted. I am a slave to ladies in high heels, leather and latex. I cannot help myself.
I apply myself to this first penance with a will. After only a few minutes my arms and back are in agony but nothing will prevent me from kissing Sister Ruth?s elegant high heeled boots. The tiny silver crucifix on her anklet glints in the light, shining against the deep black of the leather. I taste and inhale the perfume of her boots. My erection stiffens and throbs as my eyes feast on Sister Ruth?s needle thin stiletto heels.
?Kneel up my child.? Sister Ruth?s voice is authoritative but warm.
She touches my nipples with the end of her black whip. They are already hard and the sensation is electric, making my penis feel as though it is on fire. I writhe in ecstasy, pulling against my bonds.
?You are a deeply sinful boy aren?t you John,? Ruth continues. ?Your body and mind are in the grip of evil desires that torment you. It may take many years to free you from this evil my child, but I shall do it. But to obtain freedom from your lust you must submit to me John. You know that don?t you??
?Yes, Sister Ruth. I will gladly submit to you.?
?Very well John. It is time for your second penance. And this will be painful for you my child, very painful. I am going to discipline your penis with my high heeled boots.?
Sister Ruth claps her hands and the two acolytes return bearing a small wooden block about six inches wide and twelve inches long. They move me back from the throne and place the block between my legs. The wooden block has several thin straps attached to it.
I am deeply afraid of this penance but yet, as a high heel fetishist, greatly excited by it. I have only received it twice before and then only for a very short time. Something tells me that this will be different.
??Place your penis on the block.?
I edge my erect penis onto the small block. The wood is warm to the touch, stained and pitted with hundreds of tiny indentations. The acolytes use the thin straps to secure my erect penis firmly to the block. They then depart.
Sister Ruth smiles. She lifts up her right boot and places it gently on my penis, the stiletto heel resting on my highly sensitive, swollen cock head and the sole on the shaft. Once again she uses her whip to toy with my nipples. The sensation is indescribable. My penis feels as though it is about to explode with desire but the pleasure is tempered by the edge of pain from Sister Ruth?s heel.
The stiletto heel presses ever so gently into my cock head. I let out a sharp cry. ?Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh! I am an unworthy sinner Sister Ruth. Please scourge me of my perversion.?
?I shall my child. I shall?? Where does your penis belong John??
?Under your high heels Sister Ruth.?
?Yes. This is where your penis belongs, where it needs to be. Feel your penis under my heel. Feel the pain?? now.? Sister Ruth?s stiletto heel slowly grinds into my penis. A tiny pinprick of blood appears but the pressure from her heel is constant. ?Feel the pain and look at me. Look at my lips, my breasts, my gloves, my corset. Feel the pain. Feel my stiletto heel on your penis.?
Sister Ruth continues. ?This discipline is to teach you that masturbation is a sin. You must learn that while you are aroused by high heeled shoes and boots you must not give in to that arousal by playing with yourself. Do you understand??
?Oh yes I do Sister Ruth. I understand you must punish me. My penis belongs under the heels of your beautiful boots.? As I say this I try to thrust my penis against her boot heel, causing more pain and more spots of blood. I don?t care. I want to give myself totally to this imperious Goddess.
?Feel the pain John. Feel my heel on your penis. Can you feel your guilt receding as you feel the pain??
?Yes Sister, I can feel it.? The pain is excruciating but my erection under Sister Ruth?s boot heel is as strong as ever.
?Look at me John. Look at me while you feel the pain. Look at me ?..now!? And the high heel presses down once more. I gasp with the pain. A tear forms in my eye.
I find it hard to take my eyes from Sister Ruth, my beautiful confessor. Her exquisite black latex habit frames her mature body, hard nipples protruding from her large breasts. She is flexing her whip in her gloved hands, the rubber making a soft creaking sound. Sister Ruth stares at me. Her cruel smile, high cheekbones and wicked green eyes are so powerful. In spite of myself I bow my head. I am not her equal.
?Look at me John.?
I look up, my penis in agony but still so hard. My eyes meet with hers.
?Look at me while you feel the pain my child. Look at my nipples. Feel my high heel on your penis. Feel the pain of my heel as you look at my nipples. Look at my corset, my garter clips, my stockings, my elegant high heeled boots. Feel the pain John.?
?Thank you Sister Ruth. Thank you for teaching me how to be more pure.?
?That?s better John. Let the guilt flow from your body. Feel the guilt leaving your body as you experience the pain. Feel the pain through your penis.?
My penis remains under Sister Ruth?s boot heel for five?. ten?. fifteen minutes? I lose track of time. My head begins to spin with the constant pain. But before I lose consciousness the acolytes return. My penis is suddenly released from the block and I am given a glass of water and allowed a little time to recover. I am not released from my chains.
Sister Ruth claps her hands once more. The two acolytes reappear. One carries a large silver wine goblet, the other a tray holding cigarettes and a lighter. Sister Ruth takes a cigarette and the acolyte lights it for her. They are dismissed.
Sister Ruth takes a long drag of her cigarette and slowly exhales the smoke. She smiles.?
?You will thank me for your disciplining your penis. Kiss my boots child.? The imperious voice. My ordeal continues.
Once again my head bends to Sister Ruth?s highly polished thigh boots. My neck is sore but my lips gladly kiss the leather, carefully, reverently paying homage to the instruments of my recent correction. As I lick the right boot heel I taste the unmistakable tang of my own blood. My penis, bruised, bloodied but still very much erect, twitches in response.
?Kiss my habit.? My lips touch the hem of Sister Ruth?s black rubber habit.
?Kiss the whip.? With a frisson of fear I kiss the wickedly thin black whip.
After a few minutes the acolytes are once again summoned. My chains are removed from the eye bolts in the ceiling and reattached to rings set either side of the Seat of Penance. My body is moved forward. I can smell the heavy scent of Sister Ruth?s latex habit. Her booted legs part. Slowly, my head inches forward until my lips find the soft, moist skin of Sister Ruth?s shaven sex. My tongue starts to play across her labia. I feel Sister Ruth?s latex gloves either side of my head, guiding me, teaching me.
?Now boy, your next penance will be to pleasure me. You will bring me to orgasm very slowly, with delicate but firm use of your lips and tongue. Do you understand??
?Yes Sister Ruth.?
?This is to teach you the correct way to use your sexuality. Your penis needs to be kept under the strict discipline of my high heels. But your mouth and lips may be put to better use.?
Gently, lovingly and with great joy I begin to probe and tease Sister Ruth?s sex. I kiss every silky fold of her pussy, tasting her musky scent and feeling her tiny shudders of pleasure. My tongue pushes into the warm softness, touching around her clitoris but not roughly, not directly, slowly building Sister Ruth?s pleasure. I kiss and kiss, trying to communicate my own pleasure.
I feel the leather of Sister Ruth?s boots against my shoulders as I kiss her labia. My senses are almost overpowered with the scent of her sex, mingling with the heavy aroma of her latex habit.
After about thirty minutes Sister Ruth begins to moan with pleasure. After forty I feel her soft tremors of pleasure and after almost an hour Sister Ruth achieves a long, pulsating and clearly enjoyable orgasm.
Once I am sure her orgasm is completed I return instantly to kissing her boots.
?Thank you for my penance Sister Ruth.?
When I next look up Sister Ruth is smoking another cigarette, a look of intense satisfaction on her face.
After a few minutes I hear the cold authoritative voice once more.
?It is time for your final penance my child. It is time for you to feel my whip.? This last is spoken with considerable pleasure. I can hear the smile in Sister Ruth?s voice. My confessor does not try to hide how much she enjoys using her whip.
?Thank you Sister Ruth. I know I need to be whipped.?
Sister Ruth holds out the thin whip to my lips, now sore and tender from their labours. The whip is made of whalebone, sheathed in black kid leather. It is exquisitely painful.
?Kiss the whip.?
I kiss the instrument of penance.
Sister Ruth stands and walks to the side of me. I stare straight ahead. She starts to run the tip of the whip over my pain racked body. The whip touches my nipples and traces a line down my side. Sister Ruth taps my bruised and lacerated penis, still firmly erect but very red and painful from the attentions of her stiletto heels.
?You are a very sinful and obedient child are you not??
?Yes Sister Ruth.?
?Not only do you disobey my teaching by masturbating, but you think of me, your confessor, while engaging in this vile and venal sin. Is this not so??
?Yes Sister Ruth, I confess it is.? My head is bowed.
?So I think it is appropriate that you are severely punished.?
?Yes, Sister Ruth.?
?Yes. I think you need to be taught how to behave. Obviously you are aroused by my high heeled boots, so I think you need to be introduced to my whip. Yes, a good whipping is what you need. To feel pure pain. You need to be thoroughly chastised my child."
"Ask for your penance.?
?Will?.will you please whip me Sister Ruth??
?Yes my child. I will." Sister Ruth moves toward me and again proffers the whip to my lips. I kiss it reverently and await the pain to come.
?
I enter the cathedral by one of the many discreet
side doors that pepper the massive stone structure. I am admitted by one of the
older acolytes. She refuses eye contact but peers briefly around the heavy door
before ushering me in and then gently closing and bolting it. The air inside
the old cathedral is noticeably colder.
The acolyte leads me down several flights of stone
stairs into the bowels of the building. Eventually we stop and she opens
another door. I am shown into a small ante-room in which I am to be prepared
for confession. This room is much warmer. The older acolyte leaves and two
younger acolytes, also female, enter.?
As usual I am bidden to remove all my clothing. The young acolytes then blindfold me. They lead me through a maze of passages and eventually down a short flight of stairs. I hear a heavy door opening. I know this is the door into the small ?Confessional?, a chamber deep in the heart of the ancient cathedral. I have no idea where this room is located. I am certain I could not find my way back.
I am guided into the Confessional and told to kneel
on a thin cotton mat. The fabric barely softens the surface of the wooden floor
it covers. I can feel each knot of the hard oak planks through my knees. My
ankles are cuffed and secured to bolts in the floor, my wrists raised and
secured with other chains to eye bolts in the ceiling.
My blindfold is removed. The two acolytes disappear.
I am left kneeling with my arms hanging, waiting. Although the room is warm I
shiver slightly.
As always it takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust
to the dim light. I know this room well. I have spent many hours here wrestling
with my conscience and seeking to expiate my guilt. The ?Confessional? is only
eight feet square. It is lit by twelve large, red, perfumed candles and
dominated by the heavy and brooding presence of the ?Seat of Penance?, a large
throne raised on a dais, ornately carved and made of darkest ebony. Upon the
seat is a cushion of crimson satin. There is also a lower platform that acts as
a foot rest. My thighs press against its outer edge.
A small door opens to my right.
My immediate sensation, as always, is the
overpowering perfume of latex. And then I hear the unmistakable sound of
stiletto heels on the wooden floor. Sister Ruth has arrived to hear my
confession.
Slowly, and very deliberately Sister Ruth takes her
place on the Seat of Penance. She sits on the cushion and makes her self
comfortable.
Sister Ruth is an elegant, well spoken woman. She is
in her early fifties, though her high cheekbones and striking, slightly angular
features give her an almost ageless if rather stern beauty. She is wearing very
heavy make-up: mascara, eye shadow and thick, shiny red lipstick.
To hear confession Sister Ruth wears her black latex
?Discipline? habit. It shimmers in the candlelight. As she sits, Sister Ruth
sweeps back her rubber outer habit, parting it like a cape. Under it she is
wearing a black latex corset that leaves her full, firm breasts exposed.
Nestling between those breasts is an exquisite silver crucifix that matches her
silver cruciform earrings. The corset is inset with a large white latex cross
motif. The garters on Sister Ruth?s corset hold up sheer black nylons. She is
wearing pair of highly polished black leather thigh boots with wickedly thin
five inch stiletto heels. On her left boot is a delicate silver anklet with a
tiny crucifix attached.
To complete her ensemble Sister Ruth wears a pair of
shoulder-length black latex opera gloves. In her right hand with its loop about
her wrist Sister Ruth holds a thin black whip.
I keep my eyes lowered but try as I might I cannot
deny my desires. Slowly, inexorably in the presence of this elegant, severe nun
dressed in black latex my penis stiffens. My throat becomes dry and my face hot
with a combination of guilt and arousal.
I start my confession with the time honoured admission
?Forgive me Sister Ruth for I have sinned.?
I look up into the face of Sister Ruth. It is a
cruel and beautiful face. She looks down at me, her red lips twisted into a
deprecating smile. She sees my penis. It is now stiff and swollen, thrusting
from my body like some blasphemous embodiment of guilt.
Sister Ruth speaks, her
voice a deep contralto. Her tone, as ever, is a curious mixture of
understanding and amused disdain. I feel humiliated, guilt-ridden and unworthy
in her presence.
?My child I know you have sinned. Your penis betrays
you John, does it not? The Devil lives within your body.?
?Oh yes Sister Ruth, he does. Vile desires and lusts
torment me. And I am weak Sister. I have given into the temptations of the
flesh many times this past month. Help me Sister I beg you to cleanse my base
and poisoned body of the evil it contains.?
?I shall help you. Sister Ruth will hear your
confession and cleanse you. Are you ready to confess your sins to me my child??
?Yes Sister. I have been tempted by my perverted
sexual desires and I have succumbed to those desires. I have given into my
fetishism Sister Ruth. I have lusted after ladies in high heels, in lingerie,
in leather and latex. I wish to touch them to run my hands over their bodies,
to kiss them to have intercourse with them. I have masturbated many times with
these perverted thoughts in my mind. I have looked at photographs and bought
magazines. I have masturbated many, many times this past month Sister Ruth.?
?Have you finished your confession John??
There is a short silence as I summon up my courage.
I look into the impassive, face of my confessor. ?No, Sister
Ruth. I have not.? I look down in shame.
Another silence. The Confessional is
completely still, timeless.
?I have been thinking about you Sister Ruth?. while
I have masturbated.?
Sister Ruth says nothing. She simply looks at me and
gradually a cruel smile comes to her face. We both know that my penance for
such a confession will be onerous. After a few seconds Sister Ruth speaks.
?You will begin your penance by kissing my high
heeled boots.?
I lower my body as far as the chains allow. My bonds
are just long enough to allow my lips to touch the shiny black leather of
Sister Ruth?s boots. I begin to cover her boots with gentle, delicate kisses. I
feel the weight of my guilt begin to slip away as I lose myself in the rhythm
of kissing.
Each month for six years I have been visiting this
small room to kneel in confession before Sister Ruth. She offers spiritual
instruction to males who suffer from the afflictions of fetishism, masochism
and other perversions of the flesh. In truth I do not know to which part of the
church she belongs, though I have heard that she treats several senior members
of the clergy, some of them close to the Cardinal. Indeed there are rumours that the Cardinal himself takes instruction from
the good Sister.
Sister Ruth imparts spiritual guidance with her whip
and her high heeled boots. Under her guidance the male is taught how to control
his perversions. The fetishist learns to confess his guilt and then to suffer
as he indulges his perversion. Over time he learns to control his urges and
finds peace within himself. I am told my therapy will last for at least twelve
years, perhaps longer, because my perversion is so deeply rooted. I am a slave
to ladies in high heels, leather and latex. I cannot help myself.
I apply myself to this first penance with a will.
After only a few minutes my arms and back are in agony but nothing will prevent
me from kissing Sister Ruth?s elegant high heeled boots. The tiny silver
crucifix on her anklet glints in the light, shining against the deep black of
the leather. I taste and inhale the perfume of her boots. My erection stiffens
and throbs as my eyes feast on Sister Ruth?s needle thin stiletto heels.
?Kneel up my child.? Sister Ruth?s voice is
authoritative but warm.
She touches my nipples with the end of her black
whip. They are already hard and the sensation is electric, making my penis feel
as though it is on fire. I writhe in ecstasy, pulling against my bonds.
?You are a deeply sinful boy aren?t you John,? Ruth
continues. ?Your body and mind are in the grip of evil desires that torment you.
It may take many years to free you from this evil my child, but I shall do it.
But to obtain freedom from your lust you must submit to me John. You know that
don?t you??
?Yes, Sister Ruth. I will gladly submit to you.?
?Very well John. It is time for your second penance.
And this will be painful for you my child, very painful. I am going to
discipline your penis with my high heeled boots.?
Sister Ruth claps her hands and the two acolytes
return bearing a small wooden block about six inches wide and twelve inches
long. They move me back from the throne and place the block between my legs.
The wooden block has several thin straps attached to it.
I am deeply afraid of this penance but yet, as a
high heel fetishist, greatly excited by it. I have only received it twice
before and then only for a very short time. Something tells me that this will
be different.
??Place your
penis on the block.?
I edge my erect penis onto the small block. The wood
is warm to the touch, stained and pitted with hundreds of tiny indentations.
The acolytes use the thin straps to secure my erect penis firmly to the block.
They then depart.
Sister Ruth smiles. She lifts up her right boot
and places it gently on my penis, the stiletto heel resting on my highly
sensitive, swollen cock head and the sole on the shaft. Once again she uses her
whip to toy with my nipples. The sensation is indescribable. My penis feels as
though it is about to explode with desire but the pleasure is tempered by the
edge of pain from Sister Ruth?s heel.
The stiletto heel presses ever so gently into my
cock head. I let out a sharp cry. ?Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!
I am an unworthy sinner Sister Ruth. Please scourge me of my perversion.?
?I shall my child. I shall?? Where does your penis belong John??
?Under your high heels
Sister Ruth.?
?Yes. This is where your penis belongs, where it
needs to be. Feel your penis under my heel. Feel the pain?? now.? Sister Ruth?s
stiletto heel slowly grinds into my penis. A tiny pinprick of blood appears but
the pressure from her heel is constant. ?Feel the pain and look at me. Look at
my lips, my breasts, my gloves, my corset. Feel the
pain. Feel my stiletto heel on your penis.?
Sister Ruth continues. ?This discipline is to teach
you that masturbation is a sin. You must learn that while you are aroused by
high heeled shoes and boots you must not give in to that arousal by playing
with yourself. Do you understand??
?Oh yes I do Sister Ruth. I understand you must
punish me. My penis belongs under the heels of your beautiful boots.? As I say
this I try to thrust my penis against her boot heel, causing more pain and more
spots of blood. I don?t care. I want to give myself totally to this imperious
Goddess.
?Feel the pain John. Feel my heel on your penis. Can
you feel your guilt receding as you feel the pain??
?Yes Sister, I can feel it.? The pain is
excruciating but my erection under Sister Ruth?s boot heel is as strong as
ever.
?Look at me John. Look at me while you feel the
pain. Look at me ?..now!? And the high heel presses down
once more. I gasp with the pain. A tear forms in my eye.
I find it hard to take my eyes from Sister Ruth, my
beautiful confessor. Her exquisite black latex habit frames her mature body,
hard nipples protruding from her large breasts. She is flexing her whip in her
gloved hands, the rubber making a soft creaking sound. Sister Ruth stares at me.
Her cruel smile, high cheekbones and wicked green eyes are so powerful. In
spite of myself I bow my head. I am not her equal.
?Look at me John.?
I look up, my penis in agony but still so hard. My
eyes meet with hers.
?Look at me while you feel the pain my child. Look
at my nipples. Feel my high heel on your penis. Feel the pain of my heel as you
look at my nipples. Look at my corset, my garter clips, my stockings, my
elegant high heeled boots. Feel the pain John.?
?Thank you Sister Ruth. Thank you for teaching me
how to be more pure.?
?That?s better John. Let the guilt flow from your
body. Feel the guilt leaving your body as you experience the pain. Feel the pain
through your penis.?
My penis remains under Sister Ruth?s boot heel for
five?. ten?. fifteen minutes? I lose track of time. My head begins to spin with
the constant pain. But before I lose consciousness the acolytes return. My
penis is suddenly released from the block and I am given a glass of water and
allowed a little time to recover. I am not released from my chains.
Sister Ruth claps her hands once more. The two
acolytes reappear. One carries a large silver wine goblet, the other a tray
holding cigarettes and a lighter. Sister Ruth takes a cigarette and the acolyte
lights it for her. They are dismissed.
Sister Ruth takes a long drag of her cigarette and
slowly exhales the smoke. She smiles.?
?You will thank me for your disciplining your penis.
Kiss my boots child.? The imperious voice. My ordeal
continues.
Once again my head bends to Sister Ruth?s highly
polished thigh boots. My neck is sore but my lips gladly kiss the leather,
carefully, reverently paying homage to the instruments of my recent correction.
As I lick the right boot heel I taste the unmistakable tang of my own blood. My
penis, bruised, bloodied but still very much erect, twitches in response.
?Kiss my habit.? My lips touch the hem of Sister
Ruth?s black rubber habit.
?Kiss the whip.? With a frisson of fear I kiss the
wickedly thin black whip.
After a few minutes the acolytes are once again
summoned. My chains are removed from the eye bolts in the ceiling and
reattached to rings set either side of the Seat of Penance. My body is moved
forward. I can smell the heavy scent of Sister Ruth?s latex habit. Her booted legs part. Slowly, my head inches forward until
my lips find the soft, moist skin of Sister Ruth?s shaven sex. My tongue starts
to play across her labia. I feel Sister Ruth?s latex gloves either side of my
head, guiding me, teaching me.
?Now boy, your next penance will be to pleasure me.
You will bring me to orgasm very slowly, with delicate but firm use of your
lips and tongue. Do you understand??
?Yes Sister Ruth.?
?This is to teach you the correct way to use your
sexuality. Your penis needs to be kept under the strict discipline of my high
heels. But your mouth and lips may be put to better use.?
Gently, lovingly and with great joy I begin to probe
and tease Sister Ruth?s sex. I kiss every silky fold of her pussy, tasting her
musky scent and feeling her tiny shudders of pleasure. My tongue pushes into
the warm softness, touching around her clitoris but not roughly, not directly,
slowly building Sister Ruth?s pleasure. I kiss and kiss, trying to communicate
my own pleasure.
I feel the leather of Sister Ruth?s boots against my
shoulders as I kiss her labia. My senses are almost overpowered with the scent
of her sex, mingling with the heavy aroma of her latex habit.
After about thirty minutes Sister Ruth begins to
moan with pleasure. After forty I feel her soft tremors of pleasure and after
almost an hour Sister Ruth achieves a long, pulsating and clearly enjoyable
orgasm.
Once I am sure her orgasm is completed I return
instantly to kissing her boots.
?Thank you for my penance Sister Ruth.?
When I next look up Sister Ruth is smoking another
cigarette, a look of intense satisfaction on her face.
After a few minutes I hear the cold authoritative
voice once more.
?It is time for your final penance my child. It is
time for you to feel my whip.? This last is spoken with considerable pleasure.
I can hear the smile in Sister Ruth?s voice. My confessor does not try to hide
how much she enjoys using her whip.
?Thank you Sister Ruth. I know I need to be
whipped.?
Sister Ruth holds out the thin whip to my lips, now
sore and tender from their labours. The whip is made
of whalebone, sheathed in black kid leather. It is exquisitely painful.
?Kiss the whip.?
I kiss the instrument of penance.
Sister Ruth stands and walks to the side of me. I
stare straight ahead. She starts to run the tip of the whip over my pain racked
body. The whip touches my nipples and traces a line down my side. Sister Ruth
taps my bruised and lacerated penis, still firmly erect but very red and
painful from the attentions of her stiletto heels.
?You are a very sinful and obedient child are you
not??
?Yes Sister Ruth.?
?Not only do you disobey my teaching by
masturbating, but you think of me, your confessor, while engaging in this vile
and venal sin. Is this not so??
?Yes Sister Ruth, I confess it is.? My head is
bowed.
?So I think it is appropriate that you are severely
punished.?
?Yes, Sister Ruth.?
?Yes. I think you need to be taught how to behave. Obviously
you are aroused by my high heeled boots, so I think you need to be introduced
to my whip. Yes, a good whipping is what you need. To feel
pure pain. You need to be thoroughly chastised my child."
"Ask for your penance.?
?Will?.will you please whip me Sister Ruth??
?Yes my child. I will." Sister Ruth moves
toward me and again proffers the whip to my lips. I kiss it reverently and
await the pain to come.
?
Confession By Blueheatt __I hooked up with new girlfriend Ava. She was a professional licensed sex therapist. As time went by she told me how these women just need to get things off their mind and then she can get to any problems after that. I said: I bet you have a lot of stories you could tell. She said she couldnt tell any of them because of legal confidentiality rules, like a priest will never reveal anything said in a confessional. No law can force him to. I like to write porn stories,...
THE CONFESSION If I had to describe myself or the life that I have lived up until this point I would say that I have known the pleasure of the flesh to be the greatest part of my life. Some might say that I have been damaged by my up bring, but how can having the complete love and devotion of two loving parents be wrong? Yes the title of my story is correct, I am an i****t whore; having fucked nearly forty members of my family, watch includes my mother and father, my two brothers and four...
Written and edited with the help of an ex-catholic friend. This story may stir some controversy but then why write if it tastes like vanilla. Raised in Boston to love, honor and obey his family and one-day to fulfill his spiritual calling, Tom O’Brien was the youngest of six American bred Irish children. Every Irish Catholic family dreams of the day that one of their children will be ordained into the priesthood, increasing the prospect of an eternal reward in Heaven for the parents, and...
FetishThe work of a priest is never done. Not that I am complaining, I enjoy my work. I step into the central compartment of the confessional and draw the curtain behind me. Sitting in the dark I can not read the scriptures but instead spend my time waiting examining my own guilty conscious and asking for forgiveness for my own many sins preparing myself to hear the confessions of my flock. I don't have to wait long until I hear the shy footsteps of my first confessor approaching quickly down the...
"Confession time!" I announced as I passed the bottle of wine my girlfriends and I were working on. "I wanna hear all about your deepest, darkest confessions! Make me forget that bastard that cheated on me!" I knocked back my third glass of wine and reached for the bottle after Nikki passed it back to me. All of the women sitting around the fire started to giggle and point fingers to one another, trying to get someone to confess. "Oh, all right, said Shana. "I'll go but you all have to promise...
I once jerked off in a Starbuck’s restroom after taking some upskirt shots of the soccer mom drinking her latte. Another time, I stole my sister’s panties and used them as a mask while I cranked off into her pillow. What’s your dirty confession? That’s the question behind XConfessions, an arty porn site that makes smut based on anonymous confessions.The site was started in 2013 by Spanish porn visionary Erika Lust. She initially just wanted to create an online place for people to share their...
Premium Porn For Women SitesReddit SluttyConfessions, aka r/SluttyConfessions! If you are ever looking for a good time with sex stories, there’s nothing better than reading real confessions online. Sex stories are great, and all, and they can go into detail about some of the most fucked up kinks and other shit that you can imagine. However, I think we can all agree that confessions are even better. It’s so hot knowing that one of these people really do this kind of shit. Anyway, if you ever want to find the best source...
Reddit NSFW ListI am a male in my 40’s from Minnesota, and I love to let my wife fuck other men. I do not have a very large cock, it is only about 6 1/2 inches long but a little on the thicker side. My wife loves large cock, and by this I mean at least 8 inches. I used to be the type of guy who was totally against this kind of stuff until 1 night watching a porn with my wife that was full of swingers. Ever since, the door has been open for my wife to fuck other men. We have been married for 20 years now, and...
I know you asked me for discretion, and I will honor that, but I have to get this out and off my chest. I was contacted by a female who I shall leave nameless on xham, (I'll call her Pinkie). We messaged several times back and forth, and eventually I clicked the friend request button. Time passed and no friends. OK, whatever, it doesn't always have to be. Well, that night she messaged me and said that she just realized how close we lived to each other, and wouldn't it be awesome if we could...
"Ready for your bath, dear?" Anne Pilson asked. "Yeah, I guess so," Lindy replied while still doing her homework. "Just give me another minute, okay?" "I'll go run the water," Anne replied, "take your time." Five minutes later Anne could hear her eighteen year old daughter climbing the steps to the second floor bathroom. She smiled to herself, still glad that Lindy still enjoyed the Thursday evening baths that had started when she was just a baby. "It's not to hot is it?" Lindy asked while...
When i was 16, my friend and I went to a party, drank a lot as usual. At the end of the night, we came back to his parents house, nobody were home. We were used to sleep in the same bed because we didn’t have to make another bed. That night we went to bed and start talking shit cause we were wasted, we talked about a lot of things, talked about girls and then he asked me if I’ve ever sucked a cock. I said : nah bro, have you? He was negative too. We talked about gay things and whatever, so he...
I glanced up at Mark as he finished wiring two leads to a small box of electronics. The other ends of the leads were connected to a cold, metal dildo, which was strapped firmly inside me. This was my punishment for last night. I shuffled slightly on the bed, the bonds allowing me very little movement, but the device stayed firmly inside me. My ankles were tied to the front corners of the bed, and my wrists were tied to a table that was fixed in place over the top of the bed. My old word...
"Ready for your bath, dear?" Anne Pilson asked. "Yeah, I guess so," Lindy replied while still doing her homework. "Just give me another minute, okay?" "I'll go run the water," Anne replied, "take your time." Five minutes later Anne could hear her eighteen year old daughter climbing the steps to the second floor bathroom. She smiled to herself, still glad that Lindy still enjoyed the Thursday evening baths that had started when she was just a baby. "It's not to hot is it?" Lindy asked while...
InterracialBe it life or death, we crave only reality. If we are really dying, let us hear the rattle in our throats and feel cold in the extremities; if we are alive, let us go about our business. Walden, Henry David Thoreau. She was asleep, he nearly so; I sat in the corner, trying and failing to concentrate on my book. There were a thousand places I would rather be than here, but she needed him, and he needed me. (In retrospect, these many years later, I think we were both fooling ourselves, he...
Kathy Wu paused at the top of the stairs as she reached the sixth floor of the seven-story apartment house. The old tenement building had been built without the convenience of an elevator and if she had been visiting anyone other then her friend Jiang Li, she would've insisted that they meet her in the lobby. Stepping up to apartment 6B, the twenty-three year old ran one hand through her shoulder length black hair as she rang the small doorbell with the other. A long minute passed before the...
In a story I once read, an author addressing himself to lovers of incest stories, told of the ease with which he was able to seduce his mother. He ended his letter saying that there many mothers who would gladly welcome their sons with wide-open arms and legs into their beds, if their hot and horny sons only make a pass at them. He went on to point out that many a single mother, without a lover in her life, more then not were inching for cock and would ultimately, in spite of their moral...
Im 42 yrs old. divorced, and a closet gay sissy. I always have been.I cant start from the begining cuz of the u******e thing so Ill start on my 18th birthday.I went to school for half days, then work for the other half. every day I would stop at home; while my parents were at work, and jack off.but not like most boys. most boys would blow their load, wipe it up and be done. That was fine at first but I wanted to be as perverted as I could with my hour of total privacy. See back then, growing up...
True story. —- In my defense, I can argue that his computer was so much better than mine. Well, sort of. Anyway, Id use any excuse I could find to justify my curiosity. Dad used to spend so much time at night in his computer… sometimes I woke up very late at night to drink water or use the bathroom, and Id notice the light in his bedroom. His computer light. Oh, there should be something really, really good happening over there, and I had to know what it was. But first, let me say something...
I guess that you could say that I've been a whore...a slut...whatever you wanna call me. I love sex, I can't help it...from my first time when I was a young girl, I've craved it more and more, and I've kept it a secret from everybody...I thought that if anyone knew, then I'd get a reputation for it, you know? I didn't want guys to reject me because they knew I'd been with other guys, so I never told them, I always played the fool... My name is Alison, and this is my story.
Now if you think this is going to be a stoke story, forget it. Actually, that's not the way I write nor do most stroke stories turn me on. So, I usually avoid them and really don't have any interest in writing them. Like lots of guys, I like sexual stories. They satisfy the prurient interest that is part of most guys' psyche. Mine too. A lot of stories include coming of age scenarios, you know, little ones losing their Virginity! Well, not real little ones, you know, not pre-pubescent...
It was 12 55 am, the club was buzzing with music, the RnB base made Stefania's head swim, she was looking at her best friend, who was dancing with her other friends, and she sighed inwardly, lately shes been having these thoughts about her best friend which werent exactly genuine, they were sort of fantasies which bothered Stef alot. She looked at the time, it was only 1 02, the night was still young but the thoughts were constantly in Stefs head, she decided to drink something. She had to get...
LesbianWritten and edited with the help of an ex-catholic friend. This story may stir some controversy but then why write if it tastes like vanilla. Raised in Boston to love, honor and obey his family and one-day to fulfill his spiritual calling, Tom O’Brien was the youngest of six American bred Irish children. Every Irish Catholic family dreams of the day that one of their children will be ordained into the priesthood, increasing the prospect of an eternal reward in Heaven for the parents, and...
Her skirt was so impossibly tight he found himself fantasizing about what colour and style of lacy knickers she might be wearing beneath it (if any) as she turned to one side and bent forward. He also noted how her full but pert tits seemed to float in a pair of shapely cups beneath the brightness of her shiny blouse. He then idly speculated on what she could do with those deep red lips as her long blonde hair cascaded carelessly down over her bobbing bosom like a magical waterfall."Yesss!", he...
CheatingHer skirt was so impossibly tight he found himself fantasizing about what colour and style of lacy knickers she might be wearing beneath it (if any) as she turned to one side and bent forward. He also noted how her full but pert tits seemed to float in a pair of shapely cups beneath the brightness of her shiny blouse. He then idly speculated on what she could do with those deep red lips as her long blonde hair cascaded carelessly down over her bobbing bosom like a magical waterfall. “Yesss!”,...
After a long afternoon of delivering the sacraments to the three city hospitals, Father Antony Secco took a short detour on his way back to the rectory of St. Jude Thaddeus. It'd been several days since he heard the young musician's confession, but his words still echoed in the young priest's mind. This fantasy fulfillment agency called It's Just Sex! sounded like just what he needed. He dropped a quarter into the pay phone and punched the number he'd memorized. The voice answering was crisp,...
TabooAfter a long afternoon of delivering the sacraments to the three city hospitals, Father Antony Secco took a short detour on his way back to the rectory of St. Jude Thaddeus. It’d been several days since he heard the young musician’s confession, but his words still echoed in the young priest’s mind. This fantasy fulfillment agency called It’s Just Sex! sounded like just what he needed. He dropped a quarter into the pay phone and punched the number he’d memorized. The voice answering was crisp,...
The interviewAfter having to take an early retirement from my job, and enjoying a little time off, it was time to get out and find another job. Although I needed the income, I was not happy about having to go through the whole process, after so many years. Being over 50, I knew it wouldn't be an easy task. I did have the advantage of still being in pretty good shape. I am 6'1", 185lbs, salt and pepper hair, and blue eyes. My first interview was to be at 11:00 with a warehousing and distribution...
Let me first give you an idea about how I look. I am 26, with 36 B cup breasts a slender waist and long legs. My long black hair was tied in a knot. I was wearing a skirt that just reached my knees.. and a sleeveless tight top showing off my cleavage to such an extent the onlookers let out a moan when they see.The train was almost vacant with a handful of passengers who were at the end of the wagon and very far from me.I was reading a book when suddenly you came and asked if the seat opposite...
Straight SexIvan, Svetlana and ... their son ... went back to Providence two days later, having decided, with my helpful input, that neither of them really wanted anything to do with K-Street lobbyists. Did I turn my brother, you ask? What would you have done in my position? There are people you instinctively feel you can trust, but there are different levels and degrees of trust. The whole concept is highly subjective. There's the kind of trust where you'll let someone borrow your car, or the kind...
Dear all I am regular reader of ISS, and many stories I have seen which inspired me to write my life experience when I was working in a leading telecom company in USA. I am RAJA, any female, who need a good friend in USA, especially in California, who want to have sex with me can mail me at THIS STORY IS FROM MY GF, IN HER WORDS, SO HERE IS THE STORY,,,,,,,,,,, I was really shocked to hear the words from my hubby’s boss. “I will not”. I replied. It all happened 3 months ago. My husband...
The next time I wanted to meet with Bill was a Saturday. I emailed him with my instructions, but to my surprise, he told me that he had family in town and would not be available. I was disappointed and a bit angry that I wouldn't have the fun I'd came up with. But I wasn't going to let my weekend go to waste. So I hopped on my laptop to see what there was to do and what events were going on. While I searched for bars, I came across a place called The Chapel. I saw that they had 4 and a...
The Making of a Porn Legend...As Heidi lied naked on the pool table, she wondered how she was ever put into her predicament. She was practically blind without her glasses, but could tell from the voices in the background that there was now at least ten men surrounding her. To make matters worse, the blinding pool table lamp shining directly above her was making it impossible to see what else was happening within the darkened room. She was getting fucked rather harshly, which was terrifying for...
While the compilation of war materials was ramping up to full swing, it almost came to a screeching halt. It soon became apparent, that I was not generating the capital to realize my ambitions. Despite the enormous wealth Abram had brought to the table, I was spending it faster than I was taking it in. That had to change, and change quickly! I couldn’t wait until after the war started, to get the funding I needed now. Away from the Compound, the wives were discovering the lack of many modern...
Hi friends this is Vicky from Ludhiana and this is my first real story with my mom… Pehle main aapko apne bare mein aur apni mom ke bare mein bata doon my age is 27 and 5’7″ and penis size is 6 and half inches and thick as any girl wants to have it and my mom is age of 49 but she looks 40 years and she maintain her body like actress. She has very good figure and statistics 32 28 32. Ab main story par aata hoon yeh last month ki baat hai meri mom ko back pain rehti hai aur woh hamari maid se har...
“Hello Nurse Erica. Good to see you again. I see you’ve met with Alisha and Ashley already. Just take those Cokes with you and bring the bottles back for a refund, I’ll furnish the cold drinks for this special occasion... “Hello Becky. Both you and Nurse Erica look stunning in those white uniforms. Josey is one lucky young man to be in your company day after day,” Mr. Kendall was laying some shit on them. I suppose he’s thinking of them asking if they could give him some personal lessons in...
Jack was an ordinary student there. He was fifteen, just starting to get to know the surroundings and everything. He hadn’t thought much about girls until that day. It was the day when he had seen those girls. Of course, nobody would suspect at first glance when they looked at them. They looked just like any other teenage girls. It was a group of three girls that are the center of this story. The first girl was Susan. She was about average height for her age, with a slight slurred sound in...
Hello ISS readers and my name is Chandani. I am here to share my experience to all readers which happened with me two years ago. Let me describe about myself, my figure is 32 28 36 and a quite sexy figure. One day in the school I was having a doubt in science. I went to science sir and got a very clear solution about that. Then sir offered me to join his tuition. I agreed and joined the tuition with one of my friend Pooja. We went daily to sir’s home for tuition. Daily session was of 2...
We were sitting on the couch, watching TV, when the doorbell started to ring. Nicole swung her braced leg around, preparing to stand up. I stopped her with a gesture, then reached out and tickled her toes, which were curled up in a way I found very seductive. “Don’t bother; I will open the door,” I said and reluctantly withdrew my hand. “Thank you, Peter. Who could that be?” Her eyes flickered worriedly. A blond girl about Nicole’s age was standing outside. “Hi, I’m Hanna,” she said and winked...
FetishI was a teenager when my parents went to Hawaii for two weeks on a second honeymoon. My Aunt Clare (my fathers 27 year old younger sister) came to stay to “keep and eye” on me. I didn’t know it at the time but Clare was a lesbian. My parents described this aspect of her to me as “she didn’t particularly care for men.” I assumed, naturally enough for a teenager, that she just didn’t like guys. I wasn’t sophisticated enough to attach any sexuality to it. Clare was something of a...
Sharon and I pulled Joy in between us on the lounge and kissed her all over. Before long, we were sharing her succulent loins like two starving kittens. As we continued, Joy gradually pulled her legs back to her chest. She moaned continuously as we nibbled and licked her crotch unendingly. It was much later, after several orgasms, that Joy whispered, "Are we still going dancing, my loves? You know how much I like showing off my girls and their kitties."Joy was stretched out on her back as...
LesbianMonday, June 4, 2007 We all had breakfast together, in front of the TV to catch up with the latest breaking news. "Breaking" being the operative word, because things were being broken all around the world: store windows, marchers' heads, church attendance records, and every hope I had for people being sensible. The parents had already informed their workplaces that their going to work was going to be problematic for a while. Vanessa and Mom could do MAF's work from home. Vanessa had...
"What am I doing here?" Ferro asked himself for the third time. Regardless of what he had done in the last three weeks, this club was far outside his comfort zone. He was an engineering geek and for him, places like this were always intimidating. He had been in a club or two in his college years but he had always felt uncomfortable. He wasn't comfortable being so forward and acting more confident than he really was. He liked those safe drinking places with plants and cushy seats and cute...
He Loved MeBy: Londebaaz ChohanI could not say that Henry was a gay boy but I really loved him. My name is Thomas; everybody calls me Tom. It was just a chance that in the dorm hall, his room was 2 doors away from my room. He did not match any classes with me so I could not tell, how was his daily schedule of classes but he was usually out like me for some early classes but then I did not see him back in the dorm till late in the afternoon; when most of the other residents were also back. What...
Mum's The WordChapter One You're going to think this is a sad story, because it starts out sad. But don't be sad for long, brothers and sisters, because it ends up pretty okay, at least to me it does. I'm Bobby, by the way, Bobby Henderson. That really doesn't matter to the story, except that it's about me and my mother, Claire Henderson. There are a few other people in it too, but they only matter a little. I'll mention them later. My mom's story starts out like a lot of people hope their...
As I Stepped inside the J Dorm I could tell all eyes were on me. As I dodged awkward glances and pointed jabs I happened to catch a glimpse of Audrey leaning against a back wall. "Hey Trash Can Guy!" she shouted waving me over. "Sorry I never asked your name." she added as I crossed over. "It's Nicholas Frost, most people call me Nick." I said lying...well not exactly, more like half truthing. Nicholas is my Middle Name, my first name is Calvin after President Coolidge (Don't ask me why). "Nick...
The Townsend's had an on again off again marriage, and an eleven year son, Jason, he was six when Brooke had started. Mr Townsend worked as a car salesman at some dealership in St Louis County and had inherited money. Mrs Townsend had been nice enough to her, but Richard Townsend had been something different entirely. In Brooke's mind, he was absolutely the best looking man she had ever seen. He was blond, he was handsome, he had beautiful eyes that she kept staring at, he had curly hair....
Sissy Farm - Chapter 16 By: Beverly Taff List of Characters. Me: Michelle - A Natural transvestite sissy; Janice: My Younger sister; Aunty Bev: Janice and My mother's Sister; Mistress Janet: Headmistress of the young lady's academy; Dr Shirley: My endocrinologist; Miranda: A very effeminate Sissy sales assistant; Miss Stern: Miranda's mistress who owns the shop; Peregrine: AKA. Uncle Penny. My transvestite uncle, (Aunty Bev's...
Part Two CHRISTIANA I’m glad that Paul has come out into the open and been frank and honest in not only our relationship but of others he’s had. Now that we’ve come to accept the facts I can also be as honest as he has been. I must admit that the failure of our marriage was as much my fault as his. I will not cover the ground that he has already trodden, but only to say that our first few years were happy ones. I blame the circumstances that caused us to drift apart. He was so tired on the...
BisexualIt was a miserable wet day and seeing as I didn't have anything to do I decided I'd have a bus ride to a nearby town 25 miles away. I got on the bus and sat upstairs at the back, it was nice and warm and I could see alsorts that I couldn't see driving in the car. There were a young couple sat a few seats away but they were arguing.Their row was getting louder and nastier I was beginning to feel embarrassed myself. After a while the girl slapped him across the face and stormed off the bus, he...
As he and I steel away from the wagon train camp, we quietly leave as he had come. I was chilled, excited where he would take me. Little did I know he was a great warrior among his people. We rode many long hours before we came to a cave hidden within a great wall, where he led his palomino on foot. For the night he built a fire to warm the cave. He gently wrapped a very soft blanket around my shoulders. My eyes followed him as he prepared our bed for the night. We ate, then to my...
Hello everyone, I am natasha agrawal. I am 21 year old and lived in bhopal.Me aaj ek full of sex with bdsm vali story narrate karne vali huu. Yeh story thodi real thodi fake hai but bhot maje daar hai. Iss story me incest, bdsm, pee drink.,torture sab kuch hai.Yeh iska phla part hai. Apna suggestions or comments muje mail ya meri fb id pe jarrur message karna. Yeh story hai meri family ki hai, meri family ki, isme me mera bhai, mera bf, meri sexy maa,or mere papa hai . Me phle aapko characters...
Hi girls bhabhi or aunties man is site pr har story ko parhta hon or mjhy boht shok ha chudai ka so ap logon ka time zaya na karty hoye apni story par ata hon pehly man apko pany bary man btata hon mera name sohan ha 6 ft height body ek dam jhkas gym wali or lund ka size 7 inch agar koi larki bhabi ya aunty rawalpindi se mjh se chudwana chahy to mjy mail kad dey mera email account ( ) ha ab story Ye bat un dino ke ha jab man 2nd year k paper de kar free tha har wakt ghar man he rehta tha or...
Kasey was awakened by Mrs. Willows meowing and gently rubbing against her shoulder. She poked one eye out from under her pastel green covers and stared at the cat. ‘Is that all you ever think about? Food? And sleeping?’ She slowly climbed from the bed and let her feet touch the floor. Mrs. Willows followed suit jumping from the bed and walking to the door to scratch against it. ‘You’re always sleeping and always eating. You need to get some exercise,’ the cat meowed in disapproval and...
Hi Indian Sex Stories dot net readers edi nenu rastunna and share chesukuntunna first real life experience.Nenu chpeydi everything nijam and imaginative story kadu. Na peru Tarun nenu currently hyderabad lo untunna na height 6 feet fair and na sulla size 14 cms height nd 3 cms width sulla colour amo black ki white ki madyalo untundi sulla head vachi pink. Naku teenage nundi ammayalu anna amayala puku lu anna pichi enta pichi antey sex lo 30 min puku nakadanikey ketayista.Eppati daka 13...
Friday early evening, as Ana and I were coming back from dinner outside, she said that she needed to stop by her office and pick up some paperwork she needed to work on at home for Monday...When we arrived to the parking lot, I noticed another car there. Anita smiled at me, saying she would come back in a minute. Then she just jumped out of the car and walked to the elevators.After spending there about twenty minutes, my sweet Anita had not come back yet. I started wondering what was going on...
"Absent, adj. Peculiarly exposed to the tooth of detraction; vilified; hopelessly in the wrong; superseded in the consideration and affection of another. To men a man is but a mind. Who cares what face he carries or what form he wears? But woman's body is the woman. O, stay thou, my sweetheart, and do never go, but heed the warning words the sage hath said: a woman absent is a woman dead." Jogo Tyree Excerpt from "Cynic's Word Book" by Ambrose Bierce © 1906, Doubleday, Page and...
hi.. Handshake for guys and boob shake for gals. I m Avinash (name changed) from Mumbai. I like to read ISS stories. I am reading it for last 2 years. Now I am posting my own story here. This is a story which took place 3 months back. This is my first story here. I need your replies. My mail id is I am studying medical in one of the reputed college of Mumbai. I m 22 years old and am a fair, average looking person with a muscular built. I m 5 10 tall and dick is 7 inch big and 2 inch...
Christmas passed quickly — too quickly — with presents and dinners and long, quiet walks and general dating fun. They ate out, went bowling, hung out with Lotty and her friends, hung out on their own and caught up with a few old friends — Shawna's friends mainly — from school. He gave her the ear-rings he'd bought her for Christmas, thankful that he'd taken the time to pack them before he left. She tried — futilely — to convince him she'd bought him his present before they'd left; he...