Principles
- 3 years ago
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Walking through his place, I was humming an old Bryan Adams hit. I was looking around and being obvious about it, I didn't want to raise any suspicions. The only difference between this time and previous times was the amount of attention I paid to everything. It was easy enough to accomplish. His apartment was not much more than a flat. It had a small kitchen attached to an equally small dining area that could just barely fit a card table and four chairs with no room to spare. That was open to the main room with the front door and patio door. Through an open doorway you entered into the bedroom and from there you could reach the bathroom and the walk in closet.
He simply took it in stride sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, which he'd rescued from becoming kindling in the dump, though it might have come from a second hand store, it was in such good condition.
He had some reading to do and I had not asked him to talk about anything, yet. Though I was certain that he expected from experience, that I would be asking soon. This was my modus operandi, after all, which is exactly why I was certain that he wouldn't come in asking why I was snooping. It was well within my normal behavioral patterns. He had once told me about how his studies in psychology allowed him to see things in people's actions that could give someone a clue to what they were thinking or up to. So, he explained that he noticed that whenever I needed to talk with him about something bothering me, that I would go through this almost ritualistic act as I gathered my thoughts. Tonight was different, but only I knew that.
I noticed somethings which I had missed in the past; that or they had not been out in the open, I wasn't sure which. However, they definitely caught my attention this time. One was a leather bag, on a stool, of the sort seen in old movies and television shows carried by doctors. I kept on humming as I carefully unzipped it to see what was inside. My eyes must have become wide as saucers, if only for a moment, when I saw what was inside.
I'd found a short whip, a flogger (or was it a cat-o-nine tails?), a leather dog collar with a tag declaring "Slave" and a leash to go with it. There were other things, too. Safety scissors typically found in EMT kits, a roll of some kind of rubbery tape, and what seemed to be a set of wrist and ankle restraints seen in movies like "One Who Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" or any number of horror flicks. I was very careful not to disturb them. He was, from my experience, very aware of how things were left when he put them away.
The next thing, or things rather, that caught my attention were just visible on the shelf above the clothes rack on the left. It was a stack of soft cover books and some magazines. I'd resumed humming, but the song was different. It was more upbeat and a bit older than the previous one. Had I realized what it was I was humming I'd have blushed from head to toe and run out in horror. I was humming Devo's "Whip It". It wasn't until later that I realized this. At least by then I could laugh about it.
I carefully pulled down the stack of magazines and was surprised again, but not as much as when I had opened the bag. The magazines were about bondage, flogging, making furniture related to both and more. There were some soft covered books there, too. I wanted to go through them but forced myself to put them back. That's when I got the scare of my life.
As I was putting them back up on the shelf, I nudged something causing it to clatter from the shelf onto the floor. It was a horse crop.
"Are you okay in there," he called out.
"Yes, I'm fine. Just knocked something over. Nothing damaged, but it scared me out of my wits!"
"Well, just put it back. No harm, no foul.
"Oh, and are you about ready to talk about it? You don't usually take so long. You must really have something big on your mind."
"Fuck," I thought to myself. "He knows me, too, well. What am I going to talk to him about? Think, woman think! You got yourself into this, now how do you get out without making a fool of yourself and making him suspicious?"
I got the items all back where I was sure they had came from, but decided to grab the bull by the horns and instead of putting the crop back I picked it up and walked back out with it, tapping it against my calf. He looked up at the sound and noticed what I was doing. Of course, my mind was running like an overclocked CPU as I was trying to figure out how to make the best of things and see where this would go.
I missed the twinkle in his eyes and the little knowing smirk that crossed his face. Not that it would have mattered. In fact, if I had noticed it I probably would have ended up running out the door, too, afraid to move forward.
She could tell that her screams thrilled Gage to the bone. With each impact her body would writhe, her breath catch and then explode. Her tears were his pleasure, the way her back arched drove him on to ever harder efforts until, finally, she collapsed. She had offered him everything, her obedience, her mind, her body, and soul. Gage took them and made them his without a single regret and no small measure of happiness. At least in her most recent dreams. Reality was entirely different. Jamie...
We've been friends for a long time and he's such a wonderful listener, and makes me feel so comfortable when we're together. Why he never made a move on me was frustrating. I know I dropped hints. How can somebody who is so observant not see when a woman wants him so much she's nearly throwing herself at him? Damn it, this is getting unbearable. He's not a big man on campus, but he's well known around town. He can't go anywhere without meeting friends, or friendly acquaintances. Hell,...
Here I was with this woman, whom I thought I knew very well (and to be honest desired as much as a drowning man does a breath of air) and she was kneeling in front of me waiting for me to instruct her as to how to prepare my tea. As I looked into her beautiful questioning eyes, things from my studies, interests and "hobbies", and our talks seemed to click into place in my mind. I smiled warmly and said, "Two scoops of tea steeped for five minutes served with two sugars and a dash of cream....
As I sat there thinking she continued to make my tea, but not her own. I asked her about this and she looked up from what she was doing and asked if it was my wish to have her make herself a cup of tea as well. Really? She was asking me if I wanted her to make a cup for herself? Ok, I decided to go along with it and instructed her to do so but to mind my tea and ensure that it came out properly. I'm not sure if it was because she did it intentionally, or if it was because she was just as...
Plopping down beside him, I dropped the crop on the table and leaned against him. This, too, was normal, as was his failure to respond to her in any way other than as a platonic friend. I wanted to scream at him to notice me, but I had learned discipline from my years in the Navy. Besides, I knew that it wouldn't have the affect I desired; I'd seen what happened with people who had no self control around him. I was under no illusions about the man she was lightly pressed against. At least...
"I didn't know you were into horse riding," I said with a laugh as I toed the crop I'd dropped on the table and smiled at him. "I don't." "Well, what's this for then?" "A reminder." "Of what?" "Just a reminder." "Not going to tell me, are you?" "Nothing to tell you, Jaime." "If you say so. Anyways, I'm not sure what it is bothering me. I don't have a boyfriend, so you don't have to listen to me complain about how tired I am of 'him' since 'he' doesn't...
Principles and ground rules for the slaveA slave is:obedient;respectful;humble;submissive;well-presented;punctual, and;productive.Ground Rules1. Know your place. Your Owner, other Dominant men, and all men less submissive than you, are your superiors. Even if you dislike them personally or disagree with what they say, you will acknowledge their superiority at all times.This does not mean doing anything you are told by anyone, but it does mean raising any objections in a respectful way; check...
Principles and ground rules for the slaveA slave is:obedient;respectful;humble;submissive;well-presented;punctual, and;productive.Ground Rules1. Know your place. Your Owner, other Dominant men, and all men less submissive than you, are your superiors. Even if you dislike them personally or disagree with what they say, you will acknowledge their superiority at all times.This does not mean doing anything you are told by anyone, but it does mean raising any objections in a respectful way; check...
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The man sat at a corner table in the coffee shop surreptitiously eyeing off the woman sitting on a stool at bar. She was dressed in a navy blue suit; her jacket was open, revealing well-formed breasts swelling her white satin blouse, which opened to the second button so that a hint of lace bra was displayed. Her legs were crossed and her skirt had ridden up revealing most of her well-formed thighs atop long legs encased in sheer flesh-toned hose. He thought he could make out a subtle seam...
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Part I Hi, again. You may have heard about me from this nice Mr. Vargas. (No, I'm not going to tell you my name.) Several months ago he wrote just what I told him in a story he called "Principles" and it came out real nice. Lots of people have said it was good. He told me that a lady named Celeste who does re-views or pre-views -- or something like that -- gave it an award, even though she thought the way I tricked my husband into getting me pregnant so many times was "repulsive." If you...
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This is a true story and happened recently. I am bi and enjoy sucking and being sucked by guys occasionally. But on the odd occasion I het so horny that I need fucking. A couple of weeks ago it was early evening and I found myself heading to a cruising spot where I have met guys before. I parked up in a layby. it was stil light, and it was quiet. Eventually a white van came slowly driving by, as he passed I flashed my indicators a few times. He pessed his break lights a few times and we had an...
Hello, my name is Charlotte. I know you won’t believe this and normally I wouldn’t admit to it, but I am Otis’ cock slave. There really isn’t any other way to put it. And the really strange part, the really, really strange part, is that I come from a straight-laced New England family and Otis is barely educated and was just a worker in one of my husband’s warehouses. This is a strange tale, one that I find hard to believe even though I am living it. I first met...
From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: Cheerleading (what else?) Hey Em, it's your very-best-friend-in-the-world, but I guess you knew that when you saw the "from" line, right? Duh, my blond is showing again. Anyway, how are you holding up in godawful Cleveland... I still CANNOT believe that your parents could just up and move from beautiful SoCal to the midwest for gods sake... and break up the dynamic duo of Smithfield High cheereleading... but anyway, I still...