Captured By the Orc Ch. 09

This story contains offensive language. Enjoy! Tyrell "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Emmanuel asked when I walked in the kitchen. After driving around all last night trying to keep myself from cursing Bassir out I ended up at his house. No fucking body was home so I drove back home and went to sleep. I've been up all night thinking about this one nigga. I ain't never been pressed over a bitch so to be pressed over a nigga is mind blowing to me. I can't possibly want to be with him even though that's what every fiber in my being is telling me. "Nothing nigga leave me alone. All in my shit like you the damn cops." He flipped me off walking away. I'm not in the mood for his shit. I got class anyway and I'm ready to curse Bassir out. I tucked my gun in my pants and left out. I got to class before everybody else. Bassir hadn't even come in yet. He still wasn't here when people started rolling in. That's not like him. "Hey I&

Miss Penny's report outlines some of how we all reached the point where I was presenting my open arsehole to her and Dame Suzie at the instruction of my owner, Bella, but stops there. It is my duty to continue it. Even reflecting now, a blush comes to my cheeks. There is a fine line for a submissive between humiliation, which on the whole is what we crave, and degradation, which some of us crave, but also fear. As I have explained to Bella, that moment would be where I would fix the line. Crawling into the room on a leash wearing nothing but my kitten ears and a collar, my hair dyed pink was humiliating. Miss Penny and Dame Suzie seeing me like that pushed the notch up several degrees. From my position on all fours, I could see that Miss Penny's knickers had a wet spot, and that underneath her kimono, Dame Suzie had no knickers on. I was close enough to smell their scent and know what, or rather who, it was inspired it. Being told by my owner to get the bag with the tail and

Dear readers, it has come to my attention that some of my stories have been plagiarised on Literotica. If you want to use any of my works as the basis for your own, it's fine, go ahead, you have my permission providing: 1. You do not use word for word extracts 2. You notify me and credit me at the beginning of the story Thank you and happy reading. * * * * * The next day was beautiful, a cloudless blue sky. It was only 7 AM but already quite humid. I relished the cycle to work, the early summer heat, the breeze in my hair, the bare legs of pretty female cyclists at the traffic lights. Parking my bike at the stand, I unlocked our office door and headed for the kitchen to brew a cup of tea. After a few hours the humidity started to become quite uncomfortable. The air-conditioning wasn't working. I checked the circuit breakers. Everything seemed fine so I returned to the office and asked Sheila, our secretary, to call the air-conditioning service. My phone rang; an internal call

"If you don't stop it's going to get messy." We were at our favorite Mexican restaurant munching on nachos waiting for our enchiladas. And my foot was firmly planted in Frank's crotch. Rubbing my foot up and down a little I said, "messy for you maybe." Just as the server brought us our main course Frank tensed up and went quiet. I knew he was cumming in his pants. "In the immortal words of Oliver and Hardy," Frank said, "Well, here's another fine mess you've gotten me into." We enjoyed pushing the edge in public. Frank usually had me wearing a remote control vibrating egg in my pussy. I've cum several times in this very same restaurant when it was his turn to be Master. "You know, this Mistress/Master thing would be more fun if we lived together," Frank said. We talked about it while we ate our enchiladas and I eventually "succumbed" to his argument. We decided he should move in with me. His small stu

Hi, everyone. I'm just putting a toe in the water with a true story instead of fiction. The fiction will come. About Sarah... I made male foot fetish wrestling clips on a site called Clips4Sale under the name of Victor Black. I was and am average build, handsome, it seems, and I have very shapely feet and sensual looking toes. I loved to wrestle men and women, young and old, and walk barefoot all over them on mats, in wrestling rings, using a framework of pro-wrestling or of freestyle wrestling. My feet were always hogging the glory. I met Stella when she responded to my ad asking for men or women willing to be submissive in foot fetish vids for fifty an hour. Stella was about sixty, beautiful blonde hair, sexy feet, good looking for sixty, and very talkative. She was a writer and social media marketer and taught college-level creative writing. Sitting down with her at coffee, I remember having to describe the action. "See, it's like bullying someone so badly that you ca

Chapter Nine: Inside and Out "Show me your ass." Dalthu moved toward Samson with the instrument. It looked like a wineskin, but instead of wine, this one held soapy water. A hollow reed was attached to the swollen bladder. If you applied pressure to the sack, the tube would direct the flow of water wherever you liked. Samson was certain he knew where Dalthu planned to direct it, and he was certain he was not going to like it. "No thanks." Samson grabbed the edge of the bathing pool and began to clamber out. A low warning growl echoed in the room and Samson froze. Dalthu's face appeared calm, but his lips thinned into a dangerous line as he said, "I gave you a command, breeder." So it's "breeder" now, is it? He knew he didn't want an angry orc on his hands, but he also didn't want the damnable contraption anywhere near him. "I'm clean enough." "Do you think I will allow even a speck of Baronk's filth to stay