March 31, 2006
Joel McCabe sat in the armchair contemplating that fateful evening three weeks earlier that had turned his entire world upside down. Messages he dared not answer had stacked up on the telephone, flashing red alert, and he’d barely eaten in days. Sure, in thirty colourful years on earth he’d gotten into a few scrapes before, yet never as almighty a mess as this. Though he lived and breathed as any normal man, effectively Joel was dead.
Gambling had played a big part of his life in recent years, Texas Hold’em helping to supplement his meagre earnings as a barman. This time, however, he’d latched onto the wrong crowd, stepping outside his usual comfort zone. Of course, they allowed him to win the small early pots, reeling him in like a minnow, but inevitably as the stakes were raised quickly things got out of hand, way out of hand. So much so that there was no way Joel could ever repay the debt. And what made matters worse was that the money was owed to one of London’s biggest psychos, Mickey Standish.
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March 31, 2006
“Yes, it is attractive, isn’t it? The setting is 22 carat white gold with an uncut diamond centre. It’s actually quite unusual and, although quite expensive, I’m sure the lady will like it - Hey! Excuse me - what the hell are you doing?”
I turned my head to follow the salesman as his attention was drawn to my wife. She had been caught red-handed slipping a gold engraved bracelet into the pocket of her jacket. My heart dropped and I looked heavenward in exasperation. Annette stood before the salesman, eyes down looking at the floor, there was very little she could say in her defense. I could hardly believe this could happen again, not after all the expensive and time consuming treatment that she had received from the psychologist. He had said it was a disease - she just couldn’t stop herself from stealing - but he also said that he could help her. Well, it didn’t seem like she had been helped at all as we were both frog-marched into the store’s stock room where the salesman informed us that he was g
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March 30, 2006
temporary
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March 30, 2006
The silence was deafening. Where was I? How long had I been here? More importantly, where was he? I knew he was there in the room, just watching me as I lay on the bed. He hadn’t spoken since his last instructions: “Do not move until I tell you to.” As if I could in my present predicament, my hands bound together and roped to the headboard, my legs spread wide apart and tied to each corner of the footboard. I was laying face down, my hot cheek against cool sheets and a blindfold completed the picture. I was wearing only my white lace panties, all my clothes shed at his hands before he placed me here. How had this happened to me?
The evening had begun well enough. My friend, Patrick had invited me out to dinner at a favorite restaurant. We were good friends and had a lot of fun together so I was looking forward to it. As well as enjoying good communication, there was just enough sexual tension to make it interesting. Many of our conversations ended up being about sex eventually and it was exciting to be
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March 29, 2006
The Claiming of The Mouse
“Survival is a primal urge, one not negotiated with” my friend said, exhaling smoke from her second cigarette. “I simply explained to her that I saved her ass from a beating and she owed me. Of course, I had maneuvered her into my garage and had shut the door, so she was a bit out of sorts.” A smile touched her lips as she remembered that afternoon in all its erotic glory:
“It was a cool afternoon and I was walking home from school seething about a math quiz or test or something. Anyway, I happened upon a group of girls and heard the sounds of a fight beginning. So I stopped to see what was going on. It was a girl in our class named Felicia doing all the talking . . . loud, so everyone could hear. There were books laying on the ground as if dropped there in a hurry. I saw the owner of the books, a mousy blond named Joni in a state of absolute fear. Felicia had caught a rather large handful of blond hair in her left hand was trying to pull Joni off her feet. Joni was h
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March 29, 2006
Alan Dickson had worked for H.C. Bailiffs for four years now, this Tuesday morning he had a new recruit to train. Paul Wilson, a twenty four year old lad from around the corner, he had a normal everyday job as a postman, but just wanted some extra cash to go towards a car he was after.
Alan introduced himself and informed Paul that while they were outside the office he was to be referred to as Porkchop.
“I think I`ll tag you Chunky, as your a large lad” Alan continued.
“You never want a client to know your real name. You might meet `em in a pub one day and they kill yeh”. Porkchop informed Chunky.
Once they had arrived at the first house, Porkchop checked the paperwork thoroughly.
“Mr Charles Carrington Esquire. 35 Almighty Avenue”. he said out loud.
They both exited the car and headed for the front door, Porkchop stood slightly forward and announced himself as the door opened.
“H.C. Bailiffs, Maam” he said to the lady who answered the door.
The lady was Wendelina Carringt
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March 28, 2006
Hiding behind the bushes, I thought to myself:
“FUCK!!! Where the hell is that bitch?” It was 5:15 am and the sun would be up soon. In another 15minutes I would lose my cloak of darkness. It had been a week since I last buried my cock in some pussy. My nine inch black cock throbbed with anticipation as I looked down the path through the bushes waiting for my prey. I was on another one of my hunts, and my prey was the white man’s most treasured asset, the white woman. How I love white women! How I love to hear them scream when I thrust all nine inches of my cock deep into their cunts. It was Monday, and I knew this was the path she religiously used for jogging.
5:22 a.m. and still no sight of the bitch! I’d spent the whole weekend planning how I was going to take this woman. I knew it would be easy; timing was everything. Anger started to fill my veins as I checked my watch for the third time. All of a sudden I saw something moving about 50 yards down the path.
“Yeees, here she comes.” Adrena
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March 28, 2006
It’s been common knowledge of sorts that both men and women go to clubs not only to let loose, drink and have fun, but to try their hand at picking up a member of the opposite gender for no-strings, casual sex after closing time. Sometimes it remains a one-time fuck, other times it can last a little longer. Who hasn’t picked up a good piece this way at one time or another?
But the irony of this particular night, my two friends and I weren’t at the club to pick up men; we were more into getting a few drinks, dancing and just goofing off.
There was a guy that had been sort of a pest during the evening; he seemed kind of a ‘loser’ type none of us would have even looked at either there or on the street if we wanted a guy that night. Even so, despite us politely turning his company down, he still continued to be a pain in the ass off and on.
But it wouldn’t be the last time I would see him, from what was about to happen a while later that night.
Once we blew him off a final time, we went back to
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March 27, 2006
My days are pretty mundane, in the grand scheme of things. Wake up, brush my teeth, shower, go to work, and then look for something to do. Something that will make this day a little different from yesterday. Sometimes I find solace in laundry, sometimes in doing the dishes. And on a really special day, I’ll treat myself to a trip to the grocery store. I had no idea that today was going to be different from any day I would have the rest of my life.
The Tuesday morning sun shined through my bedroom window, waking me in a gentle manner. My morning stretches felt more invigorating than usual. Oxygen infiltrated each of my weary muscles, and I felt like I could take on the world. But first, I decided to take on the piles upon piles of laundry that greeted me as I left the bathroom.
I tend to keep to myself quite a bit. I have few friends, but those that I do have I consider an extension of myself. I like to decide to whom I speak, when I do it, who has access to me and my thoughts at any given time. My priv
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March 27, 2006
Jake felt my reaction to his kisses and touch. He smiled that arrogant smile that was so familiar to me. I wished that I had resisted the desire that had led me to this. But it was too late to refuse him now. I felt him placing his hands on my shoulders, pressing me downward.
“Ok, Slut! You can undress me now.” He sneered, “I know what you want.”
Without a word of resistance, I sank to my knees. I raised my hands up and began unbuttoning his shirt. His hands cupped under my chin, tilting my head back until my eyes met his.
“Talk to me, Slut! Tell me how you missed me.” He grinned at me as he slipped the shirt off his shoulders.
“Yes, Jake! I missed you.” I replied as my hands reached up to open the belt and snap to his pants. Even as I said the words, I knew that they were true, at least to a certain extent. My mind saying it was a lie and my body saying it was true. There were several times I thought of turning around and going home, but I had continued as if driven by the fear of expos
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March 26, 2006
“Now, that’s a good little cocksucker! I told you that you wanted this hard cock in every hole you have and before the day is over, you will have your wish.” He gloated.
I looked upward, seeing him smiling down at me. “Yes, My little slut. Suck my cock! Show me how much you enjoy it! Forget about your husband and your daughters, Think only about my cock and how much you love it, in your mouth! In your hot, wet pussy! In that tight little ass-hole of yours!”
His words caused my face to flush as I realized what I must look like, on my knees, sucking hungrily on a cock that was not my husband’s. What would Monty say? And my Daughters? After all of our intimate conversations about sex, masturbation and love. How would they react to the knowledge of their Mother, on her knees, sucking and enjoying a stranger’s cock? I shuddered, thinking that this nightmare would be over soon and I could once again be a respectable wife and mother. This episode with Jake had to be kept a secret from them at all cost
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March 26, 2006
A total bastard named Dieter wherever and whenever he desires fucks me, a married woman, a happily married woman, on demand.
The routine is generally the same. Using my own key, I enter his house, a sumptuous fuck pad paid for by his country’s government. He likes me sultry and sluttish, a difficult combination sometimes. I wear a short skirt, usually the tartan number or the shiny black leather one, four-inch come fuck me Lucite pumps and something cut low in a wide v over my breasts, thin enough to show my nipples.
Back in the states, titmen loved seeing my perfect full breasts; legmen adore my shapely legs, assmen admired my behind, a derrière firm enough to pound nails. Before marrying Victor, glossy photographs of my breasts in low cut bras, my legs covered in sheer nylon, wearing high heel pumps, me bending over, the camera focusing on my ass appeared in numerous stroke books.
Stepping into his bedroom, its outer wall a pane of glass looking out on a snow-covered mountain, he is naked in his
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March 25, 2006
She was late, unbelievable! The traffic on the way to the airport had been total chaos. She should have known better, it was after all what she did for a living. Being a flight attendant had its perks and she was finally going to take advantage of one of them. Her trip to Europe had been planned for months now, and she was late. She couldn’t miss this flight or the chance to be higher on the stand-by list. Nervously jumping from foot to foot she waited in the line to get through the carry on baggage check. She understood the reasons for safety now, but that didn’t make standing in the line any less stressful. She had to get to the ticket counter, had to get her name on the list, and had to be on that flight! Her mind wandering as she progressed slowly through the line. Two weeks! Two wonderful weeks in Paris. All the plans she had while visiting making her wait a bit more pleasant. She noticed the random check of bags, people being moved to the side. Some were even taken into small rooms when the baggage wa
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March 25, 2006
It seemed only fitting that the condemned man should enjoy a hearty breakfast. A Full English with fried bread, generously buttered toast and a pot of tea, Joel McCabe tucked in with relish, his first square meal in days. Having come to terms with his fate, he was strangely relaxed, complacent even about impending death.
For death was certain. There was no messing about where Mickey Standish was concerned, no chance of a last minute reprieve from a guy that made Hannibal Lecter look like a Sunday school teacher. An example would have to be made of Joel in order to maintain Standish’s echelon in the gangland community, and more importantly as a deterrent to others.
Hopefully their familiarity and the fact it was only four grand might buy Joel a quick exit with the minimum of pain, a bullet in the back of the head perhaps. After that no doubt he’d be food for the fish in the Thames. Yeah, that would be preferable to the slow, painful torture Standish inflicted on some of those that crossed him.
And i
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March 24, 2006
Blinded to any light that might be in the room, I could only rely on my other senses of hearing and smell. I hadn’t heard anything in quite a while, but I knew that he was still there, close by, watching me. The room had no distinct scents other than my own fear and arousal. Somehow, I knew he could smell them too.
When I thought I could stand the silent tension in the room no more, I felt it. The merest touch on my cheek and my first thought was that a bug had landed. Despite his earlier injunction to not move, I shrieked and struggled to move the bug. Punishment was swift as several hard stinging slaps rained down on my panty-covered ass. I howled and the slaps continued, hard, controlled and measured. I knew that he would continue until I obeyed and I struggled against my fear and pain to remain still and quiet.
He continued until I had remained still for a few moments and I knew it was to let me know that he was in control and he would decide when the punishment would end. Finally, he stopped and
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March 24, 2006
It was a hot day–supposed to reach 104. I was alone, the kids having gone to their dads for a week. Since my backyard is relatively private, I decided to lay out with the sprinkler, spraying me just enough to keep cool. Even though I have a chain link fence, I have a massive amount of lush green bushes and trees surrounding my yard and except in the dead of winter, It keeps my yard very private. I applied more tanning oil and put on some good music and drifted into a deep sleep.
All of a sudden, I woke to a hand on my mouth and another grabbing my breast and two more holding my ankles. My heart was racing. at first, I could only see their silhouettes with the sun in my face. As my eyes adjusted though, I could see that the 2 men were in their mid to late twenties. The one above my head tore off my bikini top, as the man at my ankles began pulling at my bottoms. I tried to scream, to pull away from them but I was held fast to the ground. The first man shoved my top in my mouth and tied something around to
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March 23, 2006
The day had started out like any other day before. I was driving to work as normal but I kept thinking of the guy I had met the night before online “2Sweet4U” what a screen name “2Sweet4U” We had talked for hours it seemed. We confessed our darkest fantasies to each other. Mine was to be taken roughly by a stranger. His was to take a female roughly; his wife was a conservative woman with no imagination. It was strange how we had so much in common. When we were going to sign off for the night, we exchanged cell phone numbers. I would probably never hear from him again. He probably used the naked pictures I sent him to jack off to. Then he crawled in bed with the old boring wife.
Just then I hear breaks screeching. I hit my brakes to avoid an accident. Dammit! I spilled my coffee in my lap. Son of a bitch! Now I am going to be late for work. I get my car turned around and head for home when my cell phone rings. Hummm? Unavailable number? I pick it up, “Hello?”
“That was close Karen.” a strange voi
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March 23, 2006
The Claiming of The Mouse
“Survival is a primal urge, one not negotiated with” my friend said, exhaling smoke from her second cigarette. “I simply explained to her that I saved her ass from a beating and she owed me. Of course, I had maneuvered her into my garage and had shut the door, so she was a bit out of sorts.” A smile touched her lips as she remembered that afternoon in all its erotic glory:
“It was a cool afternoon and I was walking home from school seething about a math quiz or test or something. Anyway, I happened upon a group of girls and heard the sounds of a fight beginning. So I stopped to see what was going on. It was a girl in our class named Felicia doing all the talking . . . loud, so everyone could hear. There were books laying on the ground as if dropped there in a hurry. I saw the owner of the books, a mousy blond named Joni in a state of absolute fear. Felicia had caught a rather large handful of blond hair in her left hand was trying to pull Joni off her feet. Joni was h
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March 22, 2006
(Thank you to my editor and friend BigTri.)
*
Sarah stepped into the bar. She was dressed in a tight fitting red dress that ended mid-thigh. Her breasts showed a bit of pale, soft and sensitive flesh just above the top of the satiny dress. Sarah’s legs were long and her ass was tight. She worked out regularly and was in great shape. Her breasts were not as large as she would have liked but men didn’t seem to mind, especially tonight.
Sarah stood by the bar and looked around. She had only been in here once or twice before so she didn’t know any of the faces. As she scanned the crowd a few men smiled at her or winked at her. She tried to remain calm although anxiety played havoc with her belly.
Finally turning to the bartender, Sarah smiled and ordered a glass of red wine.
“Here you go pretty lady.” The bartender smiled as he handed her the glass.
“What brings such an angel as you to a place like this?” The blue eyed bartender winked as he looked into Sarah’s eyes.
Sarah blushed
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March 22, 2006
“Not Guilty” were the words that emanated from the judges mouth as I sat there before her. Finally, months of court proceedings were over. Now I just had to sign a bunch of records and I would be free to go. Debbie stood up in the court room and began screaming and cursing at me in front of every one. Tears streamed down her face as she continued to scream at me. Her husband Dan tried to calm her down but he had no success. Finally the police officers in the court room took her by her arms and led her out of the court room. Her husband Dan followed her as she continued to scream at me while looking over her shoulder. “Murderer” she kept chanting. “Murderer, murderer, murderer” She continued to scream as she sobbed heavily.
I looked at My wife Deanna and hugged her. I knew what happened was emotional but my wife supported me because she believed in me. It was an accident when I backed out of my driveway that fateful day three months ago. Debbie and Dan’s two girls ran behind my car instantly as I be
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March 21, 2006
Joel McCabe faced a dilemma on this his final day on earth. Having set himself the Herculean task of stealing the virginity of arch nemesis Mickey Standish’s eighteen-year-old daughter Tiffany, somehow he had to get to her. It would be no simple task, for home to the luscious Barbie clone was one of the flats above her father’s club. With the only access via a door inside the club, it was about as impregnable as Fort Knox to the unwelcome former barman. Thus, a cunning plan was needed to worm his way inside.
It occurred to Joel that Fridays were big money Hold’em days in the Standish Empire. Well, how could he forget three weeks earlier when a wave of ill-placed optimism had seen him lose not only his life savings but another £4,000 on top? Now if only he could get a game… Sadly, a minimum buy-in of £500 all but priced out Joel. Yet, facing imminent death, he was on a suicide mission, prepared to do just about anything to wreak vengeance on Mickey and Tiffany Standish.
Joel really, really didn’t
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March 21, 2006
Jake removed the bottle from my pussy and sat it upright on the floor. He extended his hands to me and I sat up on the sofa. As I got my feet under me, he pulled me to my feet and kissed and pulled at my sensitive nipples. As I stood there, I could feel the pussy juice seeping out of my cunt and running down the insides of my thighs.
“OK, Slut! It seems that you need a bit more stretching.” He grinned at me as he nodded his head at the bottle on the floor.
“No, Jake! Please!” I protested, “It is too big! I could hurt myself with that.”
“I doubt that, slut! You popped out two girls from that hole down there and I know that you can do the bottle thing.” He leered at me. “You just need to put a little more effort into it. Now, get down on your knees and squat over the bottle.”
“Please, Jake!” I begged, as he led me over to the bottle.
“Quit your whining, cocksucker! Your sorry, married cunt needs to be stretched more. Look at the bright side of it; you will be able to take a bigger c
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March 20, 2006
We were going on another “boring date.” We would go out to eat at a cheap restaurant, then dancing, and home sometimes to get it on or Dan would just pass out. Our relationship was on the slippery slope, and you could say going downhill fast. We have had the same argument about doing something different, most every time we went for a night out.
I got ready to go out for the night. I wore my jeans with a black leather belt, my boots, a tube top, and an open vest. Dan wore a grubby work T-shirt and dirty torn jeans. We went out dancing, mostly I danced, and Dan watched and drank, and drank. By the time 10:30 rolled around, he was pretty well drunk. I did not drink much, since I figured that I would be doing the driving as usual.
During the seemingly long drive home, there was a park with a small pond, the grass covered in a light fog. Perfect for a romantic walk, so I thought. The moon was shining brightly.
“Dan, my love, we are going to the park over there. Let’s go for a walk and find the pond
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March 20, 2006
“No!! No!!” I screamed loudly. The full impact hitting me as I watched the screen fill with a grainy image of me standing naked, meekly in front of Jake. The sound was almost non-existent. There was no need for sound when the camera panned in closer, revealing the look of arousal on my face. The stance of my body, my tits being pressed tightly to his chest, his hands squeezing and spreading my ass cheeks as we kissed passionately. The screen changed to me, kneeling, helping Jake extract his feet from his pants. The images slid by, making the screen flicker as I watched in horror as I handled his huge prick in my hands before opening my mouth and taking it deeply into my mouth.
The camera panned in and out, catching all of the sexual actions. Still crying, I tried to hide my face from the flickering screen, but each time I tried to look away, Jake jerked my head around forcing me to watch each disgusting act.
“Please, Jake! Don’t do this to me.” I pleaded, as one hand held me by the hair of my head
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March 19, 2006
(A note from the Authoress)
After posting several chapters of “A Company Affair” I was pleasantly surprised at the volume of comments I received, both in the feedback and public sections of Literotica. I do appreciate the negative as well as the positive comments because without them, I would have no indication of your thoughts on my story. I am well aware that I cannot satisfy everyone, but it does give me the courage to keep trying.
I try to learn by my mistakes and will try to satisfy some of your concerns. A fantasy is just that, not to be considered reality, but to make it a believable read, it must bare some semblance to reality. Fantasies are started when through experiences or a desire to experience the things we are curious about, which, I admit freely that curious minds can be beneficial. While, not admitting guilt as a cheating wife, I remind my readers that clinical surveys point out that females reach their sexual prime in their mid-thirties and the male reaches his in his teens. This, in
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March 19, 2006
To say I was nervous, was putting it mildly. I would sit for awhile, then pace the floor, wishing the phone would ring. Not because I was looking forward to a meeting with a stranger, whom I knew nothing about, but a stranger who had filmed me in every conceivable sexual position that Jake had devised. What would he think of me? A married slut wife, who would do anything to keep her secret from her family, would he be as dominant as Jake was, demanding that I perform any deviant sexual act that he could think of? I really had no reason to expect him to be any different than Jake, but I could always hope.
All morning, and into the afternoon, I waited for the phone to ring. Many times over the last few hours, my mind searched for Jake’s words of instructions.
“Greg will be calling you, and you better be ready to meet him!”
My nerves were tense and my patience was wearing thin, but what could I do? I was stuck in a bad situation and could see no way out. For a hundred times, my mind ran through a hu
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March 18, 2006
Walt stood out behind the old farmhouse he shared with his wife, Sheila. He looked up at the sky, drinking in the beautiful sunset that sent rays of reds and purples across the pasture. He never failed to thank his lucky stars that he and his bride had chosen to live away from town. It was a hassle to shop and get to work and sometimes he wondered if it was worth it. But evenings like this one reminded him why they loved the farm. Neither he nor Sheila had been raised on a farm. Neither of them knew anything about raising crops or animals. But when the place had become available when they were getting started back in 1985, they had known it was right for them.
Sheila called out the kitchen window to him and he walked toward the house. Supper was over and the dishes would be washed and neatly put away, so she would want the trash taken out. Walt smiled to himself. He and she were so predictable, but he liked it that way. He didn’t like surprises. Walking into the kitchen, he she glanced over at Sheila as
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March 18, 2006
Me and my husband have been together for 3 years. We met on my 18th birthday. I am now 21 and he is 40. During all this time we were together I had really bad depression. This was mainly problems with my contraceptive pill which I didn’t realise at the time but it was also because it was his plan for me.
We are still together, and I am only able to write this now because he has given me two hours off. That is how much I can have off and do what I want every month. He calls it me period of freedom. It’s a pun on when I have a period – his joke, of course. The rest of the time he says that I am the female of the family. He refers to us as his family. That’s him and his son from a previous marriage, and his son is 21, so I am exactly the same age as my ‘step-son.’ Weird.
My husband is a member of a fundamentalist Christian group that believes that women should always be women. I only wear skirts now, and I haven’t cut my blonde hair in the last 3 years – it is now down to my waist. The wome
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March 17, 2006
Melissa and I watched the local news and a game show. As she flipped through the channels, looking for a movie, She turned to me and said, “Mommy, I wish Daddy was home.”
“I know, dear. But this is part of his work. I’m sure that he would rather be home as well.” I replied. “Perhaps after a few months he will not have to travel as he does now. You just have to accept it as part of his responsibility to provide us with the necessities of family life.”
“I know, Mom.” She said, “But it seems strange to not have him here with you.”
“Well, I do miss him myself, Melissa, but it is expected of us to accept his duties to the company in return for the salary they pay him.” I explained.
“Yeah, I guess you are right, Mom.” She sighed, nestling her head closer to me.
We sat silently for several minutes as Melissa clicked the remote to the TV. It seemed that she was restless and nothing seemed to interest her. About that time, Sara came in and joined us on the sofa. Having finished her homew
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March 17, 2006
Jake removed the bottle from my pussy and sat it upright on the floor. He extended his hands to me and I sat up on the sofa. As I got my feet under me, he pulled me to my feet and kissed and pulled at my sensitive nipples. As I stood there, I could feel the pussy juice seeping out of my cunt and running down the insides of my thighs.
“OK, Slut! It seems that you need a bit more stretching.” He grinned at me as he nodded his head at the bottle on the floor.
“No, Jake! Please!” I protested, “It is too big! I could hurt myself with that.”
“I doubt that, slut! You popped out two girls from that hole down there and I know that you can do the bottle thing.” He leered at me. “You just need to put a little more effort into it. Now, get down on your knees and squat over the bottle.”
“Please, Jake!” I begged, as he led me over to the bottle.
“Quit your whining, cocksucker! Your sorry, married cunt needs to be stretched more. Look at the bright side of it; you will be able to take a bigger c
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