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Naughty girl
Posted:Jun 7, 2018 6:35 am
Last Updated:Mar 28, 2024 5:51 am
1342 Views

She sat on the hard chair, fiddling with her nails, swinging her sensible shoe clad feet backwards and forwards , listening to the clock ticking and straining to hear what was going on behind the closed door.
She could only hear one side of the conversation (on the phone obviously) but he didn’t sound happy, there was a tinge of sadness in his voice. It went quiet, the conversation had finished, she heard the chair protesting as he leaned back into it.
“I bet he’s got his hands behind his head” she thought “he always does that when he’s thinking”.
She got an metallic iron taste in her mouth “stop chewing your lip girl” her mother’s voice rang through her memory. She smiled to herself at the thought, the male teachers (and a couple of female ones come to that) always lost their words when she bit her lip, they would stop, stare then have to regain their composure before they carried on talking. It was something she’d learnt awhile back, she was a bit confused as to why it had the effect it did on people but if it stopped them waffling on then it was fine by her.
The clock kept ticking loudly, she heard the chairs wheels squeak as it was moved, “ok he’s coming” she thought, she smoothed her tie and blouse “come on girls do your thing” she stifled another giggle, her hands moved to her plaid, school required knee length skirt and folded the waistband up a couple more times “let’s see what he does now” yet another wicked thought jumped through her brain, she stood and waited for the door to open.
He opened the door, the image before him made him stop in his tracks, tousled blonde hair, blue piercing eyes seething with intelligence, her bottom lip held loosely between her white teeth, blouse covered chest pushed slightly forward, skirt a good 3 inches above the stipulated length, tanned legs disappearing into ankle socks, then into slightly pigeon toed shoes.
He looked her straight in the eyes “I don’t know why you did, I don’t know if you got some kind of kick out if, but if you do it again I’ll have no choice but to give you the cane. I’ve talked to your parents and to be honest they don’t know what to do with you, they feel caning might be the answer, but not today. Now go back and apologise to Mr Newtons class and get on with the work I’m paying you for”
He turned and closed the door, a small bead of sweat trickled down his back. “Every year there’s always one” he thought.
She looked at the closed door “oh arse” she thought “what have i got to do to get a good caning?”.
0 Comments
In my imagination
Posted:May 22, 2018 12:37 am
Last Updated:Mar 28, 2024 5:51 am
1125 Views

I walk up to your door, knock , and wait for you to answer. As you open the door your eyes smile in recognition, you invite me in, as the door closes I pull you towards me, kissing you full on the lips, your aroma fills my nostrils , as our tongues battle with each other.
My hips press against yours, you push back, moving slightly side to side, my penis strains against my clothing, desperately wanting to be touched, your
hand grabs it , squeezing and rubbing at the same time. I feel as it might explode there and then, so I thrust my hand into your underwear searching for that well tended garden that leads to your moist interior.
As my fingers brush against your clitoris, you thrust your pelvis forward, guiding my greedy fingers down to your waiting lips , then inside to your cum soaked hole. First one finger, then two, part your swollen lips to delve inside your shuddering body, my thumb strokes then crushes against your clitoris, making your whole body push further onto my fingers, a sharp intake of breath signifies that you’ve started to cum, my fingers are soaked in warmth.
We stand rocking together for few minutes, your breathing becomes calmer, your vaginal muscles relax slightly.
You look me in the eyes while using your spare hand to pull my head down to kiss me.
0 Comments
Hmmmmmmm
Posted:May 2, 2018 11:06 am
Last Updated:Mar 28, 2024 5:51 am
1209 Views

Airing the unmentionable

With the present unusually warm weather predicted to last a few more days, it's time to address the "odour in the room".
I think I can safely assume that the vast majority of people know when their bodies daily functions are likely to cause offence to another's nasal cavities, again the vast majority of people try not draw attention to others aroma simply from politeness, they will usually just stop breathing.
There are others amongst us who enjoy the varied bouquet that is available.
It is for the those of us who would like to be able to get some "pin money" that I write.
Type into any given internet search engine "used panties" and you will be quite surprised the results, you don't have even be on the so called "dark web" to find out what can be purchased !

There are several subcategories available,

"Daily"- describes the standard use of standard underwear on a standard day.

"Weekend"- describes the use of underwear over a slightly more active period of time (worn constantly for a period of no less than 36 hours).

"Exercise" - describes underwear worn throughout a series of extreme physical exercises for a period of no less than 96 hours (the time relates to exercise so may take up to 28 days to reach the goal hours stated).

"Happy time"- describes underwear worn before, during and after the act of coitus.

"Specialist"- describes underwear worn during an attack of "montezumas revenge" (normal dispatched to your door via the cunning use of dry ice, vacuum seals and lead lined shoe boxes)

There are so many more available !!!!!

As a responsible adult I feel it is my duty to volunteer as head negotiator between yourself and the purchaser. I guarantee that I will try my utmost to match your own personable's with a buyer who will treat your unmentionables with the respect they deserve.
I will pass on to yourself any and all rewards generated by the sale of aforementioned knickers (less handling charge and office expenses).

In a time when climate change is all the rage, let's do something to stop the use of so many cleaning products and help protect the dolphins, whales and whatever other seaborne creatures are popular at the time of writing.

"So don't delay, wear them for more than day"

I reserve the right refuse acceptance of freshly laundered items as my dustbin is quite full at the moment.
0 Comments
About the author of “storytelling “ or maybe it isn’t
Posted:Apr 9, 2018 3:45 am
Last Updated:Mar 28, 2024 5:51 am
1358 Views

You, me and a cup of tea

At first glance I'm usually mistaken for either ex-police or ex-bouncer.
After initial conversation I'm usually pigeon holed as a rough and ready kind of guy who speaks too "loutish like" to be taken seriously or very camp in the "carry on" films type of way.
My day to day persona is usually slack jawed and blank eyes, for as we all know being dim is far easier than being clever.
I admit that impressions I give at first contact are usually there to allow me to stay under the "radar", I know full well that when I make a sensible suggestion it takes people by surprise, to the extent that they have to try and redefine my supposed "hierarchical" position. This is done on purpose to see the confusion that follows.
I will feign an air of non-interest to many subjects, simply to avoid deeper discussions on them, I do absorb the subject matters until I have a personal use for them, again for the reasons previously stated.
When I took on the guise of "person responsible for the health and wellbeing of others" it wasn't for fiscal reward, it was for the ability to use innuendo for self gratification and amusement.
I will avoid taking personal responsibility for things with use of the term "they", I will "laugh inside" at the misfortune of others, at small and old people doing what they do best e.g. Falling over.
I don't take criticism well at all, I become very defensive, mostly verbally.
I identify well with the Meredith Brooks most famous song (google and listen).
My best trait is "trust" and also my worst.
There are obviously physical differences between us but, apart from the odd nuances, not much separates us in the mind.
How do I know this? Because I'm smarter than you ... or I'm not.
You decide.
After all we're both human
0 Comments
Story time 5
Posted:Apr 9, 2018 3:41 am
Last Updated:Mar 28, 2024 5:51 am
1461 Views

Edward yawned, he tried to stretch but as usual he was restrained by various straps and lengths of rubber. How long he'd been in this particular position for was difficult to asses as his vision was obscured by metal, plastic and yet more rubber.
He remembered the times when he was at full length, every sinewy muscle feeling at breaking point, the weights being applied to his upturned palms, the feel of sharp metal gouging him, the sensation of warm liquid snaking down his legs, the relief of being allowed to move downwards but only after strict instructions.
He thought back to the time he broke the rules, his legs had given way beneath him, his body collapsing into a heap on the floor, oh the language he heard, the beating he received for his transgression, a small part of him was angry, a larger part enjoyed it.
As a further punishment he was forbidden to move, to ensure he did as he was told weights were put on top of him, strong tape was tightly wound around his appendages, then he was left alone. He would hear people moving around nearby, laughing, joking, touching his companion in the next "dungeon", he wasn't allowed to interact with him, if he tried a foot or a rod would be aimed at him followed by more language. He remembered the sharp hum of electric devices, the gasps, the overpowering tang of warm liquid in the atmosphere.
His reveries came to end, rather abruptly, when the Man arrived. The rough handed man who smelt of oil, tobacco, takeaway food and the ever present warm liquid.
The Man wasted no time in removing Edward's rubber restraints, the noise of the metal bolts being undone came as a bit of a surprise as this hardly ever happened, unless it was a special occasion, a celebration perhaps ?
Too late Edward realised what was going to happen, the Man had slipped on some protective latex and without warning or invitation pushed his rough, rough fingers deep into Edward's opening, turning and twisting them as they pushed deeper inside.
Edward couldn't resist, its against the rules, he couldn't cry out, those bloody rules, he couldn't do anything, he felt powerless, he felt a familiar pressure building up, the Man kept probing ever deeper, at one point it was as though his entire forearm was inside, the pressure built up, release had to come soon, more pressure, it built yet further, the Man was breathing heavily, almost panting with exertion, Edward could take no more, the warm liquid rushed up from deep down and exploded, the Man turned his face away just in time only allowing it to hit his cheek and start to run down his neck.
The Man withdrew his fingers wiped them on his clothing and angrily spat on Edward's body in contempt.
Much later Edward was back in his normal position, stretched up for all to see, no one was angry or upset with him, some were even happy to see him at full height again, this, thought Edward, is how life should be for all my kind, after all I am a scissor lift, Edward scissor lift.
0 Comments
Story time 4
Posted:Apr 9, 2018 3:39 am
Last Updated:Mar 28, 2024 5:51 am
1259 Views

As the moon reached its zenith, He pulled his Herculean frame into the upright position. He gazed out of the shutter less window, straining his hawk like vision to pierce the velvet darkness of the shadows cast by the trees. The night was hot, hot enough to make the nocturnal hunters stop to rest, even the night insects were quiet.
A low murmur reached his ear, she stirred, she breathed that quiet sleeping breath, the moonlight illuminated her face, a look of contentment passed over her. Her tongue made a slow leisurely pass to moisten her full lips. He studied her expression, reliving the memory of the last couple of hours, the looks of wanton lust that shot from her eyes, the pleading utterances that sprang from mouth, the feelings of urgency that her body provided, the heat that was almost visible from between her thighs, the single tear from the corner of her eye as she reached nirvana, the shuddering body movement as she headed for the next level of pleasure, the collapse of their entwined bodies into that pile of slaked desires.
He knew in his heart that this should never have happened, others would look upon their joining with utter contempt, some would feel disgust, none could ever understand the longing, the need, the desire.
Their lives could never be the same again, too many had already worked out what was happening, They would have noticed the looks, the convenient meetings, the accidental touching of skin. Gossip would spread like wildfire, how long could He deny the accusations before the truth leapt from his throat? before he would confess that all They said was true ?
He wept tears of anger, anger that They would never allow Her to be as one with Him again, never allow Her the chance to defend herself, it would be as though She had never existed, She would be wiped from memory, from history Itself.
He stared through the shutter less window again, the sky was was changing from black to pre-dawn pink, the tears were burning like acid down his cheeks, His Herculean frame shook with grief and sadness, Her body stirred once more.
He laid down to wait.
0 Comments
Story time 3
Posted:Apr 9, 2018 3:36 am
Last Updated:Mar 28, 2024 5:51 am
1190 Views

It's getting hot out here

The bead of sweat trickled to his brow, made a slight left turn and invaded his eyeball, he winces, try's to wipe it away but only succeed in making it worse.
He desperately wanted to give vent to the expletives that accumulated in his brain, instead he carried on with the task at hand with one eye closed.
She noticed his expression and offered the standard "oh it's hot isn't it" to try and alleviate the situation.
He smiled through gritted teeth and retorted "I've had worse" he continued the back breaking work with an almost maniacal vigour, desperately trying to bring this job to its logical conclusion.
"No not there...yes there" she pleaded , her face flushed, her legs were shaking, her hands went white as she gripped harder, "yes that's it" she was really enjoying herself now, really getting into the rhythm of it.
His face screwed up as he reached what he hoped was the end, the with an exasperated gasp he finished "argghh".
She looked disappointed and sarcastically asked "are you done then?" He nodded in reply, words were not able to leave his mouth, he was shaking with exertion on the verge of collapse.
"Well so as long you're satisfied I suppose that's it" her tone confirmed the dissatisfaction she was feeling.
Without another word she readjusted her dress, smoothed it down and turned to walk back towards the beating rhythm coming from the club, looking for another willing victim.
His eyes followed her victory walk as she disappeared through the doorway, "god" he thought "I hate role play Wednesday"
0 Comments
Story time 2
Posted:Apr 9, 2018 3:34 am
Last Updated:Mar 28, 2024 5:51 am
1408 Views

Is this it?

It had started innocently enough, the usual story, a bit bored, typing random words into the search box, giggling as she put a rude one in, then feeling shocked that there were 2,354,654 results for that word. For a while she never went further, scared her partner would open the history and see what she had done then chastise her for it.
By accident she discovered the "private" setting, according to the adverts it was for buying secret gifts, she delved more closely "your browser forgets" , can it do that? She tested it, oh yes it does !!
She repeated a few of the words and terms from before, she could watch the resulting "films" for only a few minutes, at this point it's all she needed.
She visited a few websites, looking for what, she didn't know, she found "dating sites" to be amusing, the "chat rooms" were drawing her to them, after all these were real people, she created false profiles, opened many email accounts, the responses she got were more than she hoped for (especially some of the fruity photos) she lied about herself unashamedly, taller, thinner, younger but she swore an oath to herself to never show a picture. She then started to get picky, unknowingly she'd started to aim herself at a specific type of person, Someone who shared her deepest yearnings, someone who could fulfill her burgeoning desires.
Looking at the adverts surrounding the "action" on screen she noticed one involving what appeared to be an medieval executioner, she clicked on it, her body went rigid, one hand hovering over the mouse,her faced flushed, her breath refused to leave her chest, she shuddered, eyes half closed but not able to leave the scene being played out in front of her.
It took a few minutes before her heart rate returned to normality. Questions whizzed around her head, was that real? Do they enjoy that? How do I find out more? Do I want that to happen to me?
Yes.
She'd put it off for a few days, she logged on, double checked all the information she could find, it certainly seemed real. She hastily wrote an enquiry email, nothing traceable, just a query. The response came with an invitation. All she had to do was read the attachment, mentally agree, click the electronic signature and send it back.
She clicked send.
A week later, as arranged, the taxi pulled up outside her door. She felt quite sick as she got inside, her chest was already quite red, the blood was pumping hard enough to hear inside her head. The driver dropped her off, he'd given up trying to make conversation after a couple of miles, and drove off. The distance to the unassuming door wasn't long, it just felt that way.
As she raised her finger to the buzzer, the door opened, she was invited to enter, the door closed quietly behind her. She was directed to a room at the rear of the building. She removed her coat and laid down on the cold surface, goosebumps instantly covered her body.
The feel of the first binding made her body flush with heat, as the last was secured she felt beyond ecstasy.
"Oh yes definitely " she thought "this is it"
0 Comments
Storytime
Posted:Apr 9, 2018 3:31 am
Last Updated:Mar 28, 2024 5:51 am
1344 Views

Is it really though? Is it?

The doorbell rings, the mad rush to throw something over your nakedness (that towel will have to do), the stairs thump as you hurry down them , the blurred figure seen through the glass, you open the door, the sight you see freezes the smile on your lips, you feel a slight tingle run through your body, you take the proffered piece of paper from the visions hands, you scan the words but hardly take them in, your mind races as the vision talks in dulcet tones, your grip loosening on towel until it slips, revealing more than it really should.
The vision speaks slowly and deliberately, you back away slightly, inviting the vision to enter further into your home, directing it towards the rear of the house, you can hardly resist allowing your towel to fall to the floor as it glides past you. You nose drinks in the sweetness of the visions pheromones, the tingling sensation starts to concentrate in a particularly delightful area, the Vision moves past you again, you allow your fingers to gently brush its skin, the vision doesn't appear to notice and makes another journey past you.
Reality and time seem to stop, words are falling from your mouth, chit chat, nonsensical utterances, the vision smiles, your legs feel weak, all the time you are aware of how little covering conceals you nudity, the urge to let the towel drop and draw the vision to you breast is almost overwhelming, there is a moment when you feel your fantasies will come true, the awkward pause, then the moment passes, the vision smiles again and bids you farewell, the door closes, you stare as the vision disappears, your hand loses what's left of its grip, the towel falls, your knees buckle, you grab the stair rail, your free hand finds its target, your breathing becomes rapid, you start the climb towards the top of mount pleasant, you arrive, you start to climb again, over and over you repeat the manoeuvre, until you can climb no more...you relax, you smile, you feel satisfied, content, yet wide awake.

There are times when this all seems so true, but if it is a fantasy whose is it? Yours? Or the visions ?
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