Tag Archives: #submission

The Pickup

Louise looked over the message, re-reading it several times. She felt herself shudder as she read his words.

Since they’d met online, he’d challenged, coaxed, encouraged and pushed her. She’d become more daring, wearing no underwear to work, having a quick ‘play’ in the ladies, even having a vibrator in her during a tube journey.

But this was different. This time he wanted her to interact with somebody else.

Two people, to be precise.

Two men.

She thought of her old friend, Helen, who would have done that without batting her eyelids. Hell, she had done that before, but Louise didn’t have Helen’s hair, cleavage, or nerve.

He’d dictated the place and time, so she just had to turn up and seduce two guys. Two complete strangers! Would that make it easier for her? She doubted it. Continue reading

Advertisements

The Training Room Revisited, part II

Eleanor felt a little for Steve in his predicament; if he refused, he would look silly in front of them all.

Steve took a deep breath.

“Yes, sir,” he said.

Arthur got Chrissie to lower Steve’s trousers before he began. The caning was given in similar fashion as before: with each strike Arthur made, Steve winced, counted, and thanked ‘sir’ for his punishment.

“Can I be released now, sir?”

Arthur laughed.

“There is one more lesson you need to learn,” he said, opening one of the side cupboards.

“Yes, sir,” Steve said. “Which lesson, sir?” Continue reading


The Training Room, Revisited

Arthur unlocked and opened the door.

“Ladies, would you help Steve into the room.”

“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.

Steve let out a laugh, muffled by the bag.

The stocks were open, awaiting their next captor. Arthur indicated them, and the girls nodded, understanding what was required. They led Steve just behind the stocks, asked him to kneel and bend forward. The two of them gently laid his head in place, and then his wrists, and stood to the sides of the stocks. Arthur closed the stocks, and locked them into place. Eleanor swallowed; she knew what it was like to be in Arthur’s stock. Continue reading


Come Into My Parlour, said…

In the taxi, Eleanor sat next to Arthur, snuggling in. Chrissie was beside her, and Steve on the fold down seat opposite. He kept looking at Arthur and Eleanor, a puzzled expression on his face. Eleanor looked around at Chrissie; she was biting her lip, her hands fidgeting, looking out of the rain spattered window. Steve shifted a little uncomfortably.

“So, you guys seem to be getting along better than expected,” he said.

Arthur regarded him, Chrissie looked between the three of them.

“Why would you think we wouldn’t?” Arthur asked.

“Well, Arthur,” Steve began, obviously a little unsure. “You’re not the kind of guy I would imagine gets on well with…”

Steve paused, trying to think of a word that wasn’t inappropriate. Arthur watched him for a moment.

“Ladies?” he suggested.

“Yes. Ladies.”

“Then why do you insist on taking me on blind dates, if you don’t think I’ll get along with them?” Continue reading


A Stormy Night

Steve sat on the end of the seat next to Chrissie, who leaned against him, linking his arm; Eleanor felt obliged to shuffle around to allow him to sit.

Eleanor glared at Chrissie, who winked and smiled back; Eleanor just felt angry.

“So, Arthur. That’s a bit of an old-fashioned name, isn’t it?” Chrissie tilted her head, a sly grin on her face.

“My parents were Gilbert and Sullivan fans, so I was named after Sir Arthur Seymour Sullivan.”

“Seymour is your middle name?”

Chrissie grinned and nodded at Eleanor, who just thought she was going over the top, making her even angrier. She didn’t want to be a part of their games.

“As I said, Arthur is an expert on anything Victorian,” Steve said. “You should see his place. It’s like walking into another century.”

“Really?” Chrissie said, nodding. “So you’ve been around there?”

“Yes. A few of us were stranded after a few drinks one night, and Arthur invited us to stay.”

Eleanor was silently seething.

“So, did you get up to anything interesting there?” Chrissie asked, her head tilted. Continue reading


So much for a lie in…

Eleanor awoke on Saturday morning to her doorbell ringing. She checked the time; almost ten. She rolled out of bed, donned a robe, and made her way to the front door. She opened the door: it was Chrissie.

“Are you alright, hun?” she asked, walking in before Eleanor could close the door.

Eleanor just turned her back on her and went into her kitchen; she wasn’t facing this without a coffee in her hand. Chrissie followed her through.

“I’ve been trying to call you, but your phone’s switched off.”

Eleanor just shrugged as she put the kettle on. Chrissie touched her arm, but Eleanor pulled away.

“El-“

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Eleanor snapped, cutting Chrissie off.

Chrissie stepped back and watched as Eleanor finished preparing her coffee. Once she’d finished, Eleanor took her drink through to her lounge, and sat. She glared at Chrissie as she came through and sat beside her.

“Hun-“

Chrissie stopped as Eleanor gave her a black look. Eleanor turned back to drink her coffee, and Chrissie sighed.

“He misses you.” Continue reading


Eleanor’s Dilemma

Eleanor blinked.

He wanted her to punish Chrissie.

Eleanor took a deep breath, and looked around the room. She only been in here a couple of times before, when she’d been ‘exceptionally errant,’ and she’d never had this vantage point before. She remembered the cupboards, but when she was in here with him, there was only the one at the front opened: the one that contained crops, paddles and whips. Here, now, he’d opened all of the cupboards. One cupboard had restraints and clamps in, another dildos of varying size, another had what looked like medical equipment, and one had what looked like electrical equipment in it.

Eleanor looked at Chrissie. She was angry. She went for what was familiar. She went and got one of the crops. The whips she didn’t think she could handle, and the paddles wouldn’t sting as much, so she choose a long crop with a small end. Continue reading


%d bloggers like this: