In The Flesh, Part I



Content Warning: This is a story about a kidnapping and being forced into sexual slavery. As such, it may hit too close to home for some readers. I apologise in advance if it does.

He watched her as she hung on the spot, sobbing behind the ball gag wedged in her mouth. Her dark brown hair, almost black, maybe even dyed black he thought, spread out in strands across her forehead, running down across her shoulders and across her frumpy maroon dress that fell over her body.
He had chained her there, arms spread apart across a wooden board, here in his garage. His stomach had tickled, part with chill, part with thrill, as he moved her across to his home, to his realm.

He never meant to grab her – Stephanie. In all honesty, when he moved into the estate, he had expected a quiet neighborhood torn from the scripts of a fifties sitcom.
That he met her at all was pure chance – she knocked on his door, all smiles – the postman had left her his mail on her doorstep while she was at work.
He smiled, offered a joke and thanks – and the next time they saw each other was by coincidence – when he was collecting mail, say, or when he came home from work at a time she happened to be coming home to.

She was married and with children, he found out, glimpsing a look at her one evening, hopping out of her car with her husband and their two small children, a wee boy and girl, following close behind. Not only that, he had seen them through the blinds of their livingroom. He saw them watching TV, laughing.

Each time he spotted Stephanie, interacted with Stephanie, he noticed more details about her – the way her lips seemed naturally ruby-esque – or how her eyes seemed dark brown one moment but violet the next.
How she spoke like something was on her mind but gave no room to talk of it, leaving him wondering if it was a part of his imagination.

No, he never meant to grab her — but something came over him, searing heat that prickled down his body to his cock.
She was out the front of her house and on the phone, pacing back and forth in a long maroon dress that swished along the concrete beneath her feet.
He had pulled into his driveway, killed the engine, and got out of the car.
Bits of conversation traveled across the road.
‘…. Would you think I had? Have you?’
If she saw him, she gave no sign – he crossed his yard, fumbled for the house key in his pockets.
‘Nah, I’m not a fan of..that.. The whole thing makes me laugh. I just don’t buy it.’
He had stopped with his key in the slot. What on earth was she on about?
‘Me? No. I’m not into that smut.’

Something in him snapped just hearing that.
He looked back at her pacing and felt something in the pit of his stomach.
Looking at her twist her face in disgust, he realized he was trembling.
He waited for her to finish the call, twisting the conversation over his head, something compelling him, awakening within him.
It all happened in a heartbeat, him crossing the distance between them, grabbing her around the neck, feeling his cock go hard as she choked audibly, spit wetting her lips.
Her legs flailed out beneath her, kicking dust across the concrete.
She tried to reach back across to him, to smack him, but she couldn’t find the strength.
Stephanie fell limp.

Why oh why was she wearing that frumpy dress? He thought, his mind back in the present as he stared at her wriggling on the spot.
He spat the words themselves at her as he closed the distance between them. His hand lashed out at her dress, seizing a handful near her chest and tearing it down.
Black buttons went skittering across the floor, clinking across the dirty concrete.
With the dress half torn and hanging around her stomach like a wilted flower, he took in the sight of her creamy pale flesh.
She was curvier than he expected, then he imagined. Her hips were shaped in, what was that actual reference? An hourglass? Was that it?
Pale stretch marks laced her stomach in thin slits across her stomach.
God, she was beautiful.
Stephanie’s eyes were wide with fury as drool seeped from her lips and slithered down across her neck. He could almost feel the heat on his skin from the way she was staring at him.
She was still in her bra and panties – plain black lace. They hugged her skin tightly, digging in.
She was yelling at him through the ball gag, but it came out as muffled to his ears.

“What you abhor is what I…adore, Stephanie.” He was speaking to her calmly.
His words only served to make her scream through her gag at him in pure rage now, the volume of her muffled cries rising.
Something curled up from the pit of his stomach and lit up his brain. He struck her across the face.
“Silence. You will listen to me.”
Angry eyes only turned to stare back at him. Not pleading, not fearful, only anger.
“I wish to educate you on some matters. In order to do that, I am going to have to…WE are going to have to break you down, Stephanie. Make you see.”
She flinched as he reached out and grabbed her bra between the cups and yanked it free. Her whole body lifted forward as he pulled, the hooks tearing undone and coming around her shoulders. Her large, full breasts spilled out of her bra.
In the silence, he took in the sight of them – her soft and light pink nipples, starting to rise from the coolness of his garage, her darkened areolas, the stretch marks across her breasts in pale thin, vertical slashes.
Slowly and silently, he looped the bra around her chained hands, helping her as she whimpered.

Keeping silent, he lowered himself to her knees before her. As he did so, she started to whimper loudly again, yelling unintelligibly through the gag.
He hung his head, sighed and then lashed out at her, striking her across the thighs.
“Behavior. Emotion. Perspective. You will see. You will relearn.”
He yanked down her panties, revealing her untamed bush, wrestling her legs still to slink them off her legs.
Getting back up on his legs, he tossed her panties aside.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Stephanie. Not yet anyway. Not anymore then I need to. I…have a book here, you see.”
He moved across to a desk tucked away in the corner where a creased, leather bound book was resting and picked it up, showing it to her.
“I want…to read you some erotica. Smut as you say. These are my favorites. These are what helped me. Now..”
He stepped towards her tear-soaked face.
“If you stay quiet, I won’t punish you. But if you try to yell or scream….”
He undid his belt and pulled it free of his jeans.
Stephanie’s wide eyes fell down at the sight of it.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to belt you.”
Stephanie shook her head and whimpered.
He couldn’t help but grin as he moved across the room to grab a stool that was resting against the wall.
Her eyes watched him as he dragged it across the concrete to rest just before her chained, exposed body hanging in the air.
Sitting down slowly on the stool, feeling its rigidness against his ass, he set the dusty book in his lap and opened it to Chapter One.
“Let’s start with something relatively…light. A story about a woman who finds herself drawn to a mysterious being in the woods behind her new house.”
He began to read.


When the story was done, he rested the book in his lap. Stephanie was breathing heavily, her breasts rising and falling.
In the beginning of the story, her face was screwed up in contempt as she grunted and wailed. Partway through the story, though, she ceased her cries and hung her head, her body vibrating as she sobbed.
The sobs grew quiet towards the end and now, as he finished, she was still.
When he closed the book, she looked up, her eyes red raw.
“I want to ask you what you think.” He said. “So I’m going to remove your gag. I want you to take the time to relax. But if you scream or call out or even yell obscenities in my direction, the gag goes back on. Do I make myself clear?”
Stephanie nodded, her eyes glistening with tears.
Slowly, he rose to his feet and stepped towards her. He could feel his cock tenting in his pants. He reached out with his hand and pulled the drool-soaked gag from her mouth.
Instantly, Stephanie’s face twisted into a snarl. She lunged at him, her mouth drawn open and snapped at him in a bite.
He felt her teeth come down on his wrist, pain flared red-hot through his body as he withdrew his hand from her.
Compulsion flooded his mind.
He raised his hand that gripped his belt and —

He hesitated. Stephanie had her eyes clenched shut, trying to brace herself.
Watching her flinch, his hand relaxed. He exhaled, letting the moment of anger ooze out from his body.
“I told you not to do that, Stephanie.” He said, his voice hard and cold.
“Fuck you and fuck your sick little stories.” Stephanie seethed right back at him, her eyes burning.
She struggled against him as he plucked the gag from her chin and popped it back in her mouth, stifling a rising scream from her lips.
“Now, I’m going to punish you for that. I just wanted to still my hand and make sure you know: What I do, I measure in my mind.”
Stephanie’s head jutted out as she swore through the gag as she stared at him.
“Oh, you can think and speak freely – for now. We’ll rewire that thought process.”
He stepped behind her, to her bare and shapely ass.
He raised the hand clutching his belt and swung it down across her left ass cheek.
The sound reverberated all around them.
Stephanie whimpered through the gag, her legs trembling on the spot.
“Behavior.” He spoke in the following silence.
He swung the belt down across her right ass cheek.
Stephanie flinched, yelling something through the gag He couldn’t decipher.
Her inability to handle herself, to stay still and silent, sent a jolt of anger through his mind just as her muffled cries made his cock throb.
Maybe he needed to discipline himself further.
“Emotion.” He said, shaking the thought away for another time.
He raised the belt and struck her a third time, across her entire ass this time – right in the center.
Stephanie’s cries grew louder this time. Her drool hit the concrete below her with a loud, satisfying smacking sound.
He walked around to face her. Her eyes had a glimmer of that rage they had earlier.
“Behavior – We’ll identify what needs to be modified. Emotion, and this, it seems, is the most important one for you. There are negative emotions in you but that’s not all. I feel something else. Something deceptive. Something…defensive. Stephanie, that sort of emotional privacy will not be tolerated in any way, you understand. I…”
He searched for the words as she watched him, sobbing through her gag. Her dark hair was strewn around her face, her eyes growing red.
“…Want you to understand, and in saying that, I want to understand you. I want to train you. I’m going to remove your gag again. Do not bite me, do not curse at me, not if you want another lesson.”

Stephanie didn’t resist when he pried the gag from her mouth. She watched him closely as he slipped his fingers across her wet lips and plucked it out.
“You crazy fuck, I’ll-“
He swung the belt across her breasts.
A strangled cry came tumbling out of her lips, cutting off her words.
He watched her as she gathered her senses, panting heavily.
“My husband, he’ll-“
A sob sputtered across her lips.
“Please, I have children, they’ll-“
“Ffffuck!” Stephanie hissed out loud.
“What do…you want…with me?” She said between gulps of air.
“What three things did I mention to you?”
He was in her face, looking her straight in the eyes. Her eyes reflected a scared woman looking back at him.
Splotches of red had began to show across her tits.
“This will get easier the more we practice.” He said, his voice coming out a little harder then he intended.
“Yes. And?”
He lifted his hand with the belt in the air.
Stephanie moaned at the sight of it, the sound trembling off her lips.
Was that a moan of nervous energy or something else?
“What else?”
He lowered the belt. “Yes. Good. You did well.”
He paused, before adding.
“This isn’t going to be easy. Our minds, they run by logic that we build our life around and even hide from. You’re going to resist. That’s fine. But there will be no privacy for you. Not with me. So. What are you feeling?”
“I just want to go home. Please.”
“In time. Not just yet. There’s much to learn. What else do you feel?”
Stephanie’s eyes darted around the room, blinking out tears. She licked her lips.
“Scared. Scared and..weird.”
“Weird how?”
Stephanie wriggled her arms on the spot.
“I don’t know!”
He could sense something behind her frustration but he’d push her later.
“Alright. Are you hungry?”
“What?!” Her eyes grew wide as she met his gaze. Either she didn’t understand his question or she couldn’t believe it. Or both.
“Do you have an appetite for food? The hour grows late.”
Stephanie broke eye contact.
He nodded, watching her closely. Her answer was genuine.
Why wouldn’t it be?
“I’m going to go away and cook something up. And then, when I’ve eaten, I’ll come back and feed you myself. Behave, and I’ll move you to my spare bedroom. You’ll have toilet privileges. But act up again? You can stay here this evening. In the dark. Do I make myself clear?”
Stephanie was frozen watching him. She didn’t seem to blink.
His voice seemed to break her out of a daze. She nodded vigorously. “Y-yes.”
He nodded, plucked the gag back into her mouth and left through a doorway behind them, leaving her bound and naked and waiting.


















Teaching Her A Lesson, Part I


In hindsight, I shouldn’t have left her bound by her legs and arms to the dressing room of the shop but the hussy needed to learn her lesson and it just so happens, I am her maths teacher. So hopefully, the little bitch will figure out I tied the ropes loose and follow through with her task by getting her ass back to mine.

None of this wouldn’t have happened if she weren’t such a rude, condescending girl that failed to show respect to her elders. It didn’t help matters that I couldn’t hold my tongue. For months, she’s been coming into my class talking at the top of her voice, swaying those hips of hers in a skirt that barely covers her ass.

In my day, if it were I, I would’ve got my ass beaten.

Then there was the fact that despite this atrocious behaviour of this girl, she still did something to me. The nights that I held my trusted toy against my clit, she would pop into my mind. Her, with her short skirt, pale legs and hint of a colourful bra behind her white cotton shirt.

I’ve never been interested in women; the idea has never so much as popped into my mind until she wandered into my class.

But my God, every orgasm that hit me as my mind traced its steps up her legs and across her


Cunt, it felt magical.

And yet, Laura Anne King was your spoilt rotten bitch. Loud, lazy and – if the rumours were to be believed – a hussy.

Still, I found myself calling her out in class to answer the week’s equation, just to hear her voice. The voice that has whispered in my ear in my darkest dreams. The ones where I take her whole body on under the stars of my old parent’s place and she howls my name.

The bitch would giggle and come up with some dumbass comment, other times she’d ignore me as she finished a conversation with whoever was sitting beside her.

Part of me loathed her rudeness, the other part wanted to see what underwear she was wearing today, which made me loath myself further – and it was all her fault.

But that all changed just a few hours ago, when our paths crossed in the department store after school.

There, Laura the slut was gathered around her two best friends, the names of which I cannot recall. When our eyes locked, she giggled and blurted out, “Fancy seeing you here, miss!” with the Fuck you tone that comes with some teenagers.

Her friends applauded her line and I just forced a half arsed smile.

That was when I had the idea to act on every bad act, every fantasy I had. I ignored my heart beating hard. I waited till no staff was around, till her friends had left (presumably to head home or to another shop while Laura changed) and when the time was right, I pushed through the door.

“What the actual fuck?”

Laura was still in her school uniform, hitching up her plain green (and short) skirt.

I immediately acted without thinking, grabbing her wrists and pushing her face against the wall.

“Shut up, you little slut, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Fuck you, you dyke” The response came through bared teeth.

She dropped her handbag, her nail polish fell out and scattered across the floor.

I can’t really recall what came over me. Thinking back, it feels like I was possessed.

I remember leaning in close to her and whispering to her to be quiet and then lifting up to reveal her black hello kitty panties. They seemed tight around her ass, revealing the curves of her buttocks.

I recall striking her. Once, twice. It…I can’t remember how many times. I remember pulling down her panties just to see her freckled ass and then…I don’t know. It was pink and raw before I knew it. I must’ve stopped when I found that she had paid her debt for being a rude bitch.

“You’re going to get locked up, you fucking bitch” She whined at me. “Bet your cheap ass bottom dollar, you will”

“Shut your mouth”

I remember barking at her to remove the tie from her shirt. I remember that because that’s how I left her, with her wrists bound to the coat hanger that was hanging her precious little outfit.

When I barked at her to tie her hands, she turned around and spat at me.

I can still feel my pussy aching just thinking about that moment.

When she refused again, I pushed her head into the wall and tied her hands myself. She struggled like a fly caught in a spider’s web; only this was my web now, bitch.

When her wrists were tied together, I tore down her panties and flung them to the side. She gasped but kept herself from spilling out for the workers. Good. She was learning.

With her bare ass exposed, I grabbed her black nail polish off the floor.

“I’ll teach you to shut your mouth” I had said and began to write on her right cheek.

“Get off of me” She said, squirming. I held her down with my free hand long enough to write: BITE ME!

I blew on it just to let it dry a while before moving to her left cheek.

“Stupid old dyke” she grunted at me, but I slapped her ass, which seemed to silence her long enough for me to write SLUT! On her left cheek.

I took a step back to admire the view. My heart was hammering in my chest. Now that she was bound, red raw and silent, what could I possibly do with her?

To be concluded…

The Incest Fantasy


See, with most people, this headline would be absolutely cringe worthy. And make no mistake, it is. The reality is messed up. I’m more concerned about the teenager’s mental instability.

But me? I think in a fantasy world, that’s actually kind of sexy. I like the idea of breaking the rules, blurring the lines. We are sexual people, don’t hold back. Face who you are. And if she doesn’t want it, take it from her.

That part just speaks to my beastly side but that it’s mother and son makes it sexier.

But it doesn’t have to be mother and son, it could be mother and daughter, sister and sister, brother and sister, father and daughter. It’s the fantasy of incest that’s intriguing to me.

It’s the notion of incest that I find fascinating. I don’t agree with it but I will listen to the arguments of a couple in a incestuous relationship because that kind of adult relationship would be fascinating to someone like me.

The fantasy I like to indulge. But that’s another story.

The power of Orgasm Denial

When I say I’m a fan of psychological punishment, I mean I go all out — I pull out all the stops.

And seeing as it’s 12-29am as I write this and my tired mind pulls out all filters, I want to talk about something we all know as Orgasm Denial.
There is nothing quite as sensual and erotic – and stimulating to my Dominant side – than having my submissive writhe in agony as I tell her she cannot play, that she has to watch me touch myself, all while I’m inches from her face.
“Please” She will say, growing agitated and fidgety. “It aches”
I refuse. I get her to edge and edge. I love to edge. I think it’s an intense experience — and sharing that with someone is even more intense, because come that release – well…I’ve never felt anything like it.
But Orgasm Denial as psychological punishment that satisfies my Dom. It goes beyond the act of edging, there’s something within me that takes pleasure about being a mind fuck to my submissive.
I actually ENJOY seeing her beg..seeing her lose her mind and just throw anything at me in hopes I let her come. She is at my mercy, trying to kiss my lips – which I deny.
And the best thing – the absolute best thing – is that she can’t act out. She’s frozen in place because somehow, someway my commands has her captivated. I mean, she could easily disobey. But she doesn’t. She can’t. For the life of her, she just can’t.
All these feelings swirl around in my head as I touch myself over going mad – a delicious dance of me with my hands as I watch her bite her lip and grip the bedsheets to stop her hands from wandering.
Maybe I’ll ease on top of her and put her out of her misery with my cock. Maybe I’ll let her use her favourite toy. The delicious possibilities are endless.
This is just one method of psychological torture I like to inflict upon my submissive. It’s a balance we both enjoy and sometimes a nice departure from our living and loving D/s relationship.

I Am Watching

I am standing outside your window


Watching you peel up your favourite pair of panties. They fit snugly around your delicious ass.

I am watching you stand before your full length mirror, gazing at your breasts as they heave with every breath. Why do you hesitate?
You bend down and open a drawer, your tight panties reveal the curves of your ass. My mouth waters. You pull out a bra – lacy and black – and start to pull it on. Then follows a loose light blue top. Then you leave the bedroom.

I wait till dark. You come back to the bedroom, slink off your clothing, your nude body is divine against the backdrop of this sunset. You turn out the light.
Minutes later, you softly snore. It is time.
I sneak to the backdoor, left ajar. Creep up the stairs, like a shadow in the moonlight.
Your bedroom door swings open thanks to a gentle breeze.

I glide into your bedroom

over you..

You stir. And that’s when you see me. You start to squeal. But I hold you down by the throat and roughly force you up on your hands and knees. You squirm. Oh my, how you squirm. But I hold you tight. You still wiggle – you try to throw a punch but i have you tight and when you know it’s too late, you give up. Suddenly, you’re more still. Your knees prop up, your ass is raised.
Your cunt glistens in the moonlight. You are aroused, my my!
I grip your hips, tug the fuck out of your hair and slide myself in..

you gasp in the darkness..a small, strained and guttural moan.

I watch you love it.