The Orchid The Storyteller
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Moira's Story
By Sailor 861
Chapter 1: The Beginning
Moira MacPeak's sex life with her husband, Graham, needed some spark. After15 years of marriage, the electricity of intimacy had dimmed and Moira wasdetermined to fix it.
She loved Graham -- they were married just after grammar school in theirsmall town in western Scotland -- but sex in recent years had become a strictlyso-so, Saturday night routine, devoid of excitement, adventure, experimentationand, most important, lust.
But the day she saw her best friend and next-door neighbour, Isabel Metcalfe,answer the door in blouse, skirt and ankle chains, Moira, a trim, 33-year-oldScotswoman and mother of two teenagers, knew that bondage would someday playan important part in her sexuality and her marriage.
Two days after Isabel Metcalfe, 35, and mother of two boys, had ankle chainsmysteriously welded on during a drive home, June 11, 1975, Moira, who alsohad two sons, now in the RN, visited her to find out why she had phoned insick at the mill the day before. After the initial shock of seeing herbest friend in chains, she recovered sufficiently to listen as Isabel explainedher strange encounter on a local county road that night. Moira could scarcelybelieve her ears. Shocked at first, her surprise turned to sexual energy andcuriosity when Isabel told her plainly that, while the chains were initiallyscary in their steel-grey appearance and implacability, they did add new intensityto her lovemaking with her boyfriend, Peter, who would soon be her husband.
Two days later, when Isabel was just as mysteriously kidnapped and taken,bound, chained and gagged, to East Africa then returned miraculously to Scotlandrelatively unscathed a few days later, Moira put any further discussion aboutbondage and chains on the "back burner" until Isabel had recoveredsufficiently from her ordeal and things in the Metcalfe household were relativelyback to normal.
After a couple of weeks, Moira and Graham were delighted to be asked by Isabeland Peter to be matron of honour and best man at their civic marriage ceremonyat the town hall a month later. Moira was mildly shocked when Isabel toldher she was going to wear a knee-length bridal dress that would put her 18-in.steel ankle restraints in full public view for the first time -- and at thetown hall.
A full-length front-page photo of Isabel and Peter appeared the next dayin the town's daily, under the headline Local Woman Ties the Knot-- In Chains , and the picture and accompanying page 1 articleindicated to Moira -- and the entire town -- that Isabel was not a woman tobe trifled with. "If I choose to wear these ankle chains in publicand, quite possibly, for the rest of my life, so be it," Isabel was quotedas saying in the article. "They were put on me mysteriously, it'sstill a mystery how they might come off -- I just don't know -- and so I amresolved to make the most of my life with these on me.
"They really don't stop me from doing anything, except horseback riding orbicycling, but I have neither a horse nor a bicycle, so I am not particularlyworried." Townsfolk and news media audiences throughout Scotlandand the UK had read, or watched and listened to electronic reports of Isabel'sexperiences as the victim of a daring, yet brutal transcontinental kidnappingplot and her subsequent escape -- in chains, no less -- from a group ofmad scientists in the East African desert.
Moira was proud of her friend's feats of bravery and determination in theface of such incredible odds; indeed, Moira glowed with pride when Isabel informedher following the wedding that the University of Edinburgh had offered heremployment as a lab assistant/consultant in the engineering faculty's metallurgydivision and that she was being considered for nomination by the universityto a British order of bravery to recognize her "native Scottish determination,resolve and resourcefulness" in helping engineer her own escape, in theface of incredible odds, and for assisting Scotland Yard and Interpol in bringingthe key operatives of the Centre of Excellence for Genetic Engineering to justice.
(It was later reported that Amina, the genetics engineer, received 25 years;Sheikh, the doctor,10 years, and Omar, the economist, five years in an EastAfrican maximum security institution. Read Through Night toLight for more details).
At home, Moira was devastated by the news of her friend's kidnap; even moreso when details of her African desert ordeal came to light later -- in Isabel'sown words -- that were uttered in strict confidence to Moira only.
Isabel had arrived home in rural western Scotland during the third week ofJune, 1975, from East Africa via the airports at Tangier, Morocco; Heathrow,London; and Prestwick, Scotland, barefoot, chained and dressed only in dustyblouse and skirt. Her short, 18-in. strides, enforced by her chains, and herchafed neck, elbows, wrists and knees were the visible evidences of her recent,harsh bondage. Clearly, she could not give her friend time for the neededconsolations and confidences each woman needed so badly after the harrowingincidents.
Isabel had a series of medical appointments, interviews at the Universityof Edinburgh, statements to the police, media interviews and, finally, arrangementsfor the civic marriage ceremony, the wedding itself, and a brief honeymoonbefore she would start work at the university.
In fact, it was not until August 12, 1975, before Moira finally got the opportunityto talk to Isabel, woman-to-woman, about her experiences in the desert, herlong, enforced bondages and, especially, the effect Isabel's shackles werehaving on her love life.
"Isabel? It's me, Moira," she said into the telephone in herpin-neat kitchen on a Saturday morning. "Can you spare me a coupleof minutes from your busy schedule? I know you've been busy with the university,the news media, Peter and . . ."
"Moira, you come right over," Isabel replied. "It's beenso long since we had a cuppa and a chat. Please, Mo, come over now. I'vewanted to talk to you so long."
Moira got dressed in her casual weekend wear -- jeans, blouse and sweater-- and walked, to gather her thoughts, down the quarter-mile to Isabel'sand Peter's house while her husband, Graham, was at work in town.
Her thoughts collected from the short walk, Moira bounded up the front stepsof Isabel's and Peter's bungalow, rang the bell and Isabel answered, smiling,wearing a light, knee-length summer skirt, sandals and her ever-present anklechains. Little did she realize at the time that, after a sexy vacationin northern Scotland, she would have to give up bounding up the stairs fora long, long time.
Moira could not help but notice Isabel's chains instantly and made a mentalnote about the ease in which her friend moved about with 18-inch steps andthe silvery clink of metal on the polished hardwood floors. Isabel gaveher pal a warm hug and invited her into the kitchen.
The abrasions and ligature marks on her friend's neck, elbows, wrists, kneesand ankles had all but disappeared, Moira noted, and she began. "Isabel,you told me already about the night of June 11, but very little of the eventsthat occurred afterward and that can wait," Moira said over tea and fresh-bakedscones at Isabel's kitchen table. "But can I be frank? I haveto tell you, honestly, I've been thinking of getting a pair of chains likeyours to put a bit of spark in our 'you-know-what'. When I first saw youin your chains that afternoon in June, the day before I took your letter ofresignation to the mill, it made me feel a little 'goosey' all over and I thinkI would like to try the experience. Just once, anyway... So can youtell me a little bit about what it's like to wear them? You don't haveto be really explicit; just give me a bit of inside info, you know, that Imight be able to use with Graham." Moira carefully avoided mentionof the kidnapping and terrifying experiences in the East African desert, waitingfor her friend to initiate discussion about those times.
Isabel was only too pleased to tell her friend about what it's like to walkabout all day with chained ankles -- "like wearing a tight, straight skirtall the time" -- and going in public in chains is no longer the gut-wrenchingembarrassment it used to be -- "let 'em look, and admire; that's all Ican say. If women are afraid, appalled or embarrassed at seeing me chainedup, that's their problem.
"I know I've been getting some admiring glances from the younger men andsome older women in town but that's as far as it goes.
"Moira, that night, June 11," Isabel continued, "somethingstrange happened to me and my sexuality. Ever since then, the chains havemade me extremely 'sexed-up', you know, whenever I'm with Peter. And what'smore, Dr. Hall, my family physician, told me since I've come back from AfricaI've developed muscle tone 'down there' -- something he calls the pelvic-floormuscle group -- that would make a 20-year-old woman envious. And I'vehad two boys, too, don't forget!
"I don't know what happened to me that night but someone or something,somewhere, improved the way I am able to have sex and, unquestionably the chainshave been a part of it; and these too," Isabel said, pointing to her ripebreasts.
"Not only were my ankles shackled but my nipples were pierced, too;by some process even Dr. Hall couldn't identify, although he did say somethingabout laser cautery or something like that.
"Anyway, the rings in my nippies are there to stay, just as these are," Isabelsaid, shaking her ankles under the kitchen table with a light clatter of linkson the vinyl flooring.
"And you know what? I haven't worn a bra since that night. Itfeels great and I don't care if I ever put one on again. And I'll tellyou, when my boobs are shaking too much when I'm doing physical activity, Ijust tie 'em together with a locket chain through the rings in my nips. Andwhen the strenuous activity is over, I just unlock them and go back to theway I was."
Moira was all eyes and ears as Isabel related more -- but not all -- detailsabout her kidnapping, her six hours in an extremely tight hogtie, the adventuresin the desert and her miraculous escape. It sounded to Moira like a storyfrom 1001 Arabian Nights and she wanted to feel partof the adventure for herself.
"My God, Isabel, I would not want to be bound they way you were," Moiraexclaimed. "How did you manage? But your chains -- where could Iget some like that, anyway? I'd like to start experimenting with Graham,you know, and..."
"I don't know where you could find a pair like these, Moira, but youand I could go down to MacEwan's hardware store today and buy you a chain anda pair of locks to get you started. As for my hogtie on the plane, letme tell you it was painful but I had something inside me to keep me company. Itwas more than my Scottish upbringing could handle and, well, that's all I'llsay about that for the time being."
Moira nodded and agreed without hesitation to make the trip in town withher chained companion. They finished their tea and scones, chatteringexcitedly about their upcoming shopping excursion. Peter was also at workbut Moira said she had the car and would walk home, return for Isabel in afew moments for the big trip to the hardware store -- and her entry into thenew world of bondage.
Isabel was waiting for Moira to drive up 15 minutes later and, soon, thebest friends were on their way into town, past the spot where, unknown to all,Isabel had been "intercepted, restrained, examined, treated and released" bymembers of the crew of a spacecraft from the planet Venusias, which had venturedoff an interplanetary course over western Scotland two months previously. CraftDDE224-A was never heard from again, either over Scotland or at Blintz, itshomeport at Venusias, 200 light-years from Earth.
"There's the spot, right there, where I saw a bright light that liftedme right out of the car, took me somewhere and put me back, I don't know howlong after, with these on my ankles and the rings in my tits," Isabelsaid, gesturing to the roadside as they drove south into town. Isabelslowed down, the two women looked out the windows and saw only the road, gravelshoulders and green fields beyond -- nothing else of note -- and they continuedto MacEwan's hardware store in the town's commercial section. Isabel's enigmawas as insoluble as ever.
"Golly, Isabel, I hope there's not too many people in the store today;I don't want everybody to know I'm buying chains for myself, you know."
"Worry wart," Isabel replied with a smile and nod to her pal. "Who'sgoing to know -- unless you tell them? It could be a bicycle lock you'rebuying. And besides, look at me; I'm chained all the time and it hardlybothers me at all now.
The chains seem to bother other people, particularly the young guys and somewomen, but not me. They look at my ankles, then my breasts and back downagain. I doubt some of those jerks even know what I look like from theshoulders up," Isabel said with a shrug.
Isabel and Moira found the little hardware store, Moira parked her littlewhite Ford Escort in the adjoining parking lot and the two got out to walkthe short distance into the brightly-lit interior of the hardware store. Moiranoticed she had to slow down to accommodate her friend's chained, clinkingprogress
Isabel's "plight," as the news media called it, was well knownto the townsfolk and she was treated with a mix of curiosity, deference andsympathy by most people who came in contact with her. Inside the store,Isabel went up to the proprietor and said: "Angus, where do you keepyour chain?"
Angus MacEwan, 36, a married father of two teenaged girls, looked atIsabel and Moira, then back at Isabel with a slight smile, and pointedto the left, saying "Aisle 2, near the end on the left; six reels, ladies. There'sgalvanized, stainless steel, zinc-plated and regular, hardened steel; threedifferent sizes and weights. What're you using it for, Isabel?"
"Bicycle lock," Isabel replied quickly and easily as Moira lookeddown, suddenly red-faced. Angus didn't believe her. "Bicyclelocks are over here, on the right," he said.
Isabel insisted on visiting the chain display although Moira was ready todig herself a hole and hide as Angus took the two women down the aisle to explaineach type of chain, its potential uses, safe working loads (SWL), diameter,weight, link shape, corrosion resistance and other properties.
It was all too much for Moira and she nearly ran out of the store. Isabelheld her hand as they walked down the aisle, Angus leading, and Isabel whispered:
"Don't you chicken out, now, Moira. We'll get the chain, the locksand we'll be out of here faster'n you can say Jack Spratt."
Moira groaned in embarrassment and put her hand to her face but kept goingdown the aisle. The three stopped in front of the chain reels and Moiralooked away, red-faced. Isabel piped up: "How much is that one, Angus?"
"Aye, that's the NeveRust 1/8th-in. galvanizedsteel, SWL one ton," he replied. "Fifty pence for three feet."
"We'll take it!" Moira blurted, thinking only of the bargain price.. Angusreached for the cutters and snipped off a length for the attractive brunettewith her shackled companion. "Anything else, ladies?" the shopkeeperasked, handing the small bundle of links to Moira who accepted it shakily. Angussmiled in tacit recognition of her discomfort.
"Two locks, please, Angus, " Isabel said quietly. Angus' smilebroadened slightly as he handed Isabel two brass-bodied, stainless-steel-shacklepadlocks from a shelf near the reels of chain.
"These are the best of the lot," Angus said. "Onepound each and they'll last a lifetime. Rustproof, too."
Moira was mortified as Isabel handed her the sturdy, little locks and thethree went to the cash to pay for their purchases, which came to two pounds,50p -- a fair price for ankle chains, Isabel thought -- a good buy which accordedwell with to the women's Scottish perspicacity.
Moira was literally panting with anxiety while Isabel was all smiles as thetwo walked out of the hardware store, around the corner into the parking lotand to the car, Isabel's ankle chains clinking loudly on the concrete sidewalk. Pedestrianspassed and slowed to watch Isabel make her slow, chained progress into theparking lot. Isabel did not notice but Moira was upset.
"Now that wasn't all that bad, was it, Mo.?" Isabel asked her friendsolicitously, as Moira, frowning, shifted into reverse to back out of the parkinglot. "Not too hard for you, no, Isabel Metcalfe. I was embarrassedstiff; this is only my first time with chains, you know; here, you've had loadsof practice and I'm just starting out."
"Starting out, aye," Isabel agreed, patting her friend on the shoulder. "You'llbe just fine, you wait and see. Imagine what Graham's going to say inbed tonight! Hee-hee!"
Moira turned beet-red at the thought of her clinking her way into their bedroomtonight, her trim, tanned ankles chained for the first time.
She wondered what Graham would say. She wondered how it was going tofeel. She also wondered what it might be like to be chained for life --like her friend.
The two friends left the little brown paper bag of chain and locks on theseat as they continued a bit more shopping in town, during which time Moirapicked out a beautiful, semi-sheer ankle-length nightgown she was certain wasbound to please.
Isabel agreed it was nice and was about to broach the topic of a suitableloincloth, such as the one she was currently wearing, but decided this wouldnot be the proper time.
After shopping, it was time for a bit of lunch and Isabel thought backto her first trip into a pub, months ago in Edinburgh, in chains with Peter...and that cretin two tables away. She frowned at the recall but put itout of her mind easily as the two attractive, casually well-dressed women founda table at a downtown steakhouse. Isabel slid in with her customary clinkand Moira joined her at the table for two.
"I can't get over how natural you walk around and do things in chains,Is.," Moira said to her friend as she sipped at her water. "Areyou sure you weren't born to be in chains?"
Isabel chuckled and commented that while she was not meant to be shackled,she was determined they would not interrupt her life, or her new career, orher marriage. "I'll make do and make out," Isabel said softly.
After a small lunch of ground steak, chips, cole slaw and tea, Isabel wasanxious to get home to finish the Saturday housework. She found it tooka little longer now than before.
Moira had done hers already but she was equally anxious to get to her houseto try on her latest acquisitions -- a sexy, long nightgown and ankle chains-- and practise walking like her best friend to see what sort of effects itwould have on her and her husband's libidos.
She wasn't long finding out.
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She then said, “It was Storytime night and that always ends with us having smoking hot sexâ€. Curious to what that meant I asked, “What is Storytime?†She said, “OMG it is so hot. John loves it when I tell him a sex story from my past or tell him a sex fantasy while I lay next to him and play with his dick. It is such great foreplay and it has really improved our sex life. We both get so horny. You should try it sometimeâ€. This story is about how I discovered a kinky way to turn my husband on.
MarriedThe way she sits on the edge of the bed, examining one maroon-lacquered fingernail, she has no idea what my intentions are. Today she’s wearing a white dress of some silky material that sets off the summer tan on her arms, highlighting the deep auburn of her hair, and a scarf around her neck that surely must be silk, I wouldn’t expect any less of her. I love telling her how beautiful she is, even though she never believes me. I sit down beside her, one hand cupping the back of her...
Reminiscence – Entwining ‘You know how I feel about this, you know what I’d like to give you.’ She told him, ever so slowly. Achingly, they had been lying in bed for two hours after they had awoken, just content to talk. The conversation had drifted however, to a more…. Taboo subject. ‘I know how you feel…’ he trailed off, kissing her neck, his arms wrapped around her waist. They were laying on their sides, her backs to him. She wasn’t being cold, she was on the verge of breaking. ‘I’ve been...
Reminiscence - Entwining ‘You know how I feel about this, you know what I’d like to give you.’ She told him, ever so slowly. Achingly, they had been lying in bed for two hours after they had awoken, just content to talk. The conversation had drifted however, to a more…. Taboo subject. ‘I know how you feel…’ he trailed off, kissing her neck, his arms wrapped around her waist. They were laying on their sides, her backs to him. She wasn’t being cold, she was on the verge of breaking. ‘I’ve been...
First TimeAfter picking up her coffee, Meara looked around the crowded café for a seat. Every seat seemed to be filled. After looking further, she noticed a table in the corner where a man about her age sat typing on his laptop, and the seat next to him was vacant. Approaching him, she said, "There are no other available seats; would you mind if I join you?" "No, you're welcome to join me," responded Sam. "Just let me finish recording my thought, here, and I'll put this away." "Don't stop on...
Review this Story Thisstory has been edited by Chksng19. Any errors in grammar, punctuation orspelling are either an intentional part of the story or the result of MadLews mucking about with the text after it was properly edited Authors Notes: This is a work of fiction and all characters are entirely fictional.If you see yourself in this story you are sitting entirely too close tothe monitor. The fictional characters in this story are all at least 18 years old,even Larry. Some may feel the...
When i look for sex storys i look for ones that have my interest, i want to know yours so you can get the best enjoyment out of reading my storys. post a comment and tell me want you want in my story, i already have a base idea for a plot but it will keep changing as i add in what you want. also if you want to add a charecter i will take your suggestions. please note that this is still my story and im the writer. thank you and please leave alot of ideas!!! -QOH P.S. if you have any plots...
A sad, depressed and bittersweet story. Disclaimer: All though inspired by a real story, this is fiction. It is a story-taking place in a horrible society where money and money only makes the world going round. Disgusting events according to Danish standard are described and I would wish that we could save the world back from Denmark, so people did not need to go trough such a life, but we can only watch the unjust to happen. The solution has to come from the government on the Philippines....
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and...
1Aoife, the Queen Maker - A Halloween Storyby The TechnicianHalloween, Romance, Fantasy = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = The arrow falls; the door opens; the Queen is made.This story explores the connection between the Orionid meteor shower, the ancient Celtic myths which surround Samhain, and the great warrior Queens of ancient Ireland."Aoife, the Queen Maker" is the story the pixies told me when I wanted to write something else. Sometimes I write a story with a theme and plot that I...
A few of the references in this sequel will make more sense if you have read “A Visit From Saint Michael,” but it does stand totally on its own and can be enjoyed even if you have never read the first story. This story centers around non-consensual pain, humiliation and slavery. If such a premise disturbs you, then I would advise you to skip this story. Or you can skim past those sections and read a very interesting tale involving one of the “old gods” of Mexico and much of South...
I have seen this lady a couple of times now, as it turned out, always on the 16th of the month, always at 2:30 in the afternoon. There always seemed to be purpose in her visit. Her visage purposeful.On this summers day, she looked so beautiful in her pink summer calf length frock. I looked at my watch and decided to take my break. Life in the gardens for staff could be hard physical work and for me, a young guy on placement from horticultural college, this was my life. It was all I ever wanted...
MasturbationI woke up to the warm pressure of Sofia’s supple skin pressed against my naked body. Did last night really happen? How could this woman be real? It seemed to good to be true. But, it was true, every glorious moment of it. I lay in bed lingering for a moment, taking in Sofia’s scent, nose nuzzled against her graceful neck. The improbable geometry of her body, the physical manifestation of quadratic functions, created a topographic map comprised of rolling hills and valleys beneath the...
Note: I mentioned in ‘The Next Morning’ that it was part of a longer story. Well, here’s the beginning of that story, drenched in the grief of a man who has lost his wife, who wakes up every morning wondering how to go on and then, one day, wakes up on a private island in the South Pacific. He’s comfortable enough. There is a beautiful beach house fitted out with every known amenity (and some that are still unknown). But the grief stays with him. And then, on the first anniversary of her death,...
When I crawled to Sally, too weak and sick to walk, I suspected my end was near. It felt like life and energy was ebbing out of me. I thought I was dying, so I panicked! Throwing caution to the wind, the hell with the consequences, like someone parched, I sucked life giving fluids from Sally’s pussy, my fountain of life. Immediately, I began to feel better, stronger. My mind cleared. Sally had been gang raped! What was I swallowing? I remember the damp towel now. Sally must have used the...
I need some critical history about Erin before I go on. In high school (two classes), nursing school (three classes), and at her first job (at the lunch table) my wife was exposed to some feminist views that were stronger than the mainstream. All preached the same militant tune: “my body, my choice!” Each of the classes spent at least a month looking at fairy tales, traditional stories, literature and popular current authors to find the “subtle chauvinist themes.” The first example they all...
The first few times they had seen each other, the initial meetings were remarkable not only for their awkwardness but also of their interaction. It could be said that they did not completely ignore each other. She had very little to do with him because the eroticism she felt in his presence was like the thick jungle air, pressing on her like two atmospheres, making the ground under her feet soft and treacherous. She knew God was cruel and that a feeling like hers couldn’t be reciprocated with...
Hazing To the real Gina-I wish there was a Thomas to make your dreams come true. On behalf of your sisters, we always knew that you were wearing our clothes! Lol In 2016 Major League Baseball banned the hazing practice of having new players wear dresses. This story is about a MLB player and his experience with the hazing ritual. Mike Young was living what many American men would consider the ultimate American dream. He was a starting pitcher for the California Seals, MLB newest...
Ben is a very good friend of mine. We met in scouts when we were younger and became fast friends. As well as all the normal scouting trips, we also would get together during the summers whenever one of our moms was willing to give us a ride across town. Ben went to a private school so weekends and summers were the only times we really had to hang out. Wendy is Ben’s little sister. Wendy was always the cutest little kid. When I first met her she was maybe six years old, and she was always bubbly...
Karen and Michelle?s Sad StoryBy [email protected] remember that this is fantasy and anyone thinking that they should do these things in real life, deserve to be locked up and have the key thrown away and play sissy slut to their cell mate for eternity. If you are not at least 18 years of age please leave.PrologueStory SynopsisThis is the story of a Mother, Karen, and her daughter, Michelle, who each have a sad and sordid past and how they become the slaves of a spoiled...
THE PROFESSOR’S DAUGHTER--Part V Bedtime Stories My old professors daughter Stephanie is a just turned 18-year-old knockout. She has cutest face you have ever seen and a slim Korean-Caucasian-mix body with a tight, petite Asian frame. She’s slim, quite tall and athletic (toned by ballet and gymnastics) with a nicely rounded firm ass and small but very firm tits. In my opinion Stephanie’s body is flawless. While her breasts are on the smallish side larger ones might look unnatural on her very...
Straight SexPart One – Messages I came across his short stories on another fiction website on which I had posted some of my own stories. The one I read first, which I found really sexy, was about a man and a woman on a beach who expose themselves to each other and masturbate. There was also a similar one about two people on a train, and another where two people in a crowded train carriage masturbate each other. He was obviously turned on by the same sort of thing as me, so I sent him a message, which...
MasturbationAt first Kerry and Robert were fairly unambivalent about meeting with me. Men were fairly easy to get hold of on the swinger’s website. What they were looking for was the elusive single female, or other couples. We chatted a few times through the website, sending messages to and fro. They excited me a lot, and I knew they would not be disappointed should they ever decide to meet up with me. However, I was fairly lucky, in that I could at least let them read about what we could do together as a...
Group SexFictionmania: The case of the missing story. By Danielle J As always any comments or criticism are welcome. My email is [email protected]. This story is dedicated to fearless FM volunteer Alyssa who helped me with this story. Author?s note- This all started because of a missing FM story. I had a wild idea and I am using some of the FM volunteers and Authors for this story. ******** The names have been left the same to protect the innocent. My Name is Joe...
I'm sitting here in the food court at the Trafford Centre, a shopping mall near Manchester. I'm not going to tell you how I'm dressed or what I've done. Jo's told me I have to keep that as a surprise for a while. She's grinning while I'm typing this, occasionally spinning the screen..... "That's right. For the girl who suggested it. She might get a kick out of what I've had you do," she smiled. "That it was her suggestion chosen." So I'm typing this story quick because all...
Erotic story writer gets much needed help from his girlfriend...Getting Help With My StoryFor those of you out there who have been closely following my life story you are probably aware that I started writing sex fantasy stories and posting them on a fantasy web site. It is something I have been having fun with for several months now. Far from being embarrassed about it, it is not something I keep a secret. I readily tell my friends about my new hobby, though usually only if they ask me what I...
Life Imitating Fiction - A TG Horror Story By Julie O Edited By Robert Arnold Chapter 1 Twenty-one year old Adam Hood swiftly walked up the stairs to his third floor apartment. He walked up the steps as fast as he could in his high heels. The last thing he wanted was for one of his...
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or...
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or...
Do you remember Love Story with Ryan O’Neil and Ali MacGraw? Well, this is a love story of sorts, this is Dog Story. No, Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, and Old Yella are not the dogs in the story, but it is a dog story, just the same. Think of this dog story as you would remember Dino on the Flintstones or Astro on the Jetsons. (Boy, I’m showing my age.) Where has all the love in the world gone? I’ll tell you where it has gone. It has gone to the dogs and to the cats. Why? Because pets are...