A Simple Game
Tonight we would play, the five of us. Nothing fancy, just some hours of fun. A simple game. Gwendolen, perfect hostess that she was, had prepared the lounge-like playroom for the events coming to pass with the expected level of experience and style. Centrepiece was the square wooden board, standing upright on carved legs. A thin steel sheet made its front compatible with magnets.
I gave Jessica’s leash a short tug downwards, and my slavegirl fell to her knees into a traditional waiting position; mouth ball-gagged, eyes lowered, arms behind her back, naked bum on her bare heels. We had arrived together with Dobs and her latest project, a sporty girl with medium-long brown hair. Mina bore the rope marks so typical for any project girl of Dobs’ – some fresh, some fading, all of them in intricate patterns. Dobs was a bondage fanatic, above all she adored flesh imprisoned by knots. What Dobs was not was a dominant per se – arguably the main reason she had “volunteered” Mina for the evening. Jessica and I were here because we both liked the thrill. Continue reading
What do the film adaptions of the Harry Potter books, the Twilight books and the The Hunger Games books have in common? Yes, they are all film adaptions, smart-arse. But apart from that, their respective final part has been split up for cinema. Sure, later books in a series may tend to becoming longer and longer due to an expanding universe, and at least the first aspect (becoming longer) is the case with all three tales. Yet one cannot but consider a certain money grab-ish side within this practice. Continue reading
Today I am very excited to bring you an Alterations special, dedicated to the fine craft of leather work!
Kendrick, overseeing the tacking of all fillies, prevented Kandrin to enjoy herself even more by suggesting a trifle o’speed.
is changed into:
Kendrick, overseeing the tacking of all fillies in a combination of Stetson, double denim disaster and bolo tie, prevented Kandrin to enjoy herself even more by suggesting a trifle o’speed.
Rediscovering the bolo tie by chance, I knew it would be the perfect accessory for the lead handler to be worn on a special occasion. And choosing that fashion route, the Stetson hat is just a must-have. Continue reading
Torture of Proxy
Day two after the gymkhana, and I was still in limp home mode (I also was still on red alert, for those who are keeping book). Once again the wise and true word proved itself right that injured flesh hurt the most the day after tomorrow. After the fun of hyper-extreme nipple torture and forced self-inflicted clit flaying I felt like chewed and swallowed. According to public opinion, I looked the part, too. The thought of masturbating the edge off had come and gone – I couldn’t even pee without yelping. I was also positive I would never be able to wear bras or tops again; the fabric felt like sandpaper on my breasts. Continue reading
Right now, Kendrick wasn’t a happy handler.
As whimsical and prone to antics as he might be, the staff leader always became noticeably ill-humoured as soon as he found his charges ridiculed – the fate of the four “winners” being a prime example. Kendrick truly held up the idea of a dignified ponygirl. Personally I always experience a certain lack of dignity when I drool out of my forced-open mouth whilst having a fake tail stuck up my arse. Better, then, to approach this concept from a different angle. Continue reading
There was simply no way for normal traffic to use Unity Plaza on a Saturday night. From Tech Boulevard up all the way to the northern stretch of the Wall, Plaza Street was bound to be aswarm with party people. The hip bars were already attracting their crowd as darkness fell. In a few hours the elite clubs would power up, churning in and spilling out those eligible for this sort of life style.
“Wait…!” Rika squeaked in peril of losing her two friends within the human torrent.
Although only a few metres away, Erilyn was on the verge of being swallowed up. Luckily Paz’s cyan-dyed hair was outré enough even for such challenging environments. Continue reading
The Office Horse
Part Two: The Horse
Immediately she tried to wiggle out of Rob’s grip, yet at the same time seeking hold at him to lift herself off. Her legs stretched out in a wild search for the ground, but more than a span remained between her toes and the carpet, no matter her struggles. Jördis managed to get a hand before and the other behind her, pushing herself up a crucial centimetre.
“Are you fucking mad?! Let me down!”
The edge was painfully digging into her palms. Reuben had repositioned his hold to her shoulders, effectively preventing the girl from throwing herself off the horse.
“Are they always making such a fuss?” Continue reading