Wifey Learns Her Lesson

It began as a bit of fun, I’ll admit it.

Tom was over at our place to watch the game on television. Usually, both he and his wife, Fran, would be over, but Fran was down south taking care of a sick sister, so it was just my good friend by himself with Dee and me.

I asked my wife for a minor favour. “Would you get us a beer, darling?” I asked, and Dee gave one of her smart-arse, uppety kind of replies.

“What am I? A maid? Get your own beer.”

I hadn’t thought it was too much to ask, but my wife flounced out of the room.

Tom muttered, “It’d be a cold day in hell before I’d let Fran get away with talking to me like that.”

I didn’t say anything, and we turned back to the game on television. But I considered Tom’s words and thought about the way Fran treated him. I had to admit that Fran did always seem to treat Tom with a certain . . . what? . . . respect? That and something more. Certainly there was plenty of love, and she always gazed at Tom with admiration, even a bit of deference.

I sighed as I rose out of my chair. “You want a beer, too?” I asked my friend.

“Sure, ” he said, and I thought I detected just the slightest snort of disgust when he said it.

Dee was in the kitchen, but I didn’t say anything as I brushed by her and got two beers, simply giving me a smug look and a wry grin. After Tom and I had settled in, we started to watch the game.

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Becoming Big Sisters Sex Slave

This all started the summer I turned 18. My older sister, Karen, was home from college for the summer. Karen was 20 and had been away at school for awhile, so at first it seemed weird to be living with her again. Karen and I had always gotten along alright, typical brother and sister stuff, but we were totally different types of people. I’m a tall, skinny kid, kinda quiet and shy. I have a few close friends at school, and I’ve even had a couple of girlfriends, but definitely no major relationships, and I’m certainly far from experienced in the sex department.

Karen, on the other hand, is more or less my exact opposite–outgoing, extremely social and friendly. When she was in high school Karen was a total party machine–Week nights, weekends, whenever. She’d always had tons of different boyfriends and was really popular. In fact, she was such a wild child that I think my parents were pretty relieved to send her off to college. Also, although being her brother I’d never really noticed it, everyone at school (at least all the guys) thought Karen was totally hot: shoulder-length natural honey-blonde hair, full, pouty lips, blue eyes, large, firm breasts, a tight curved ass and legs to die for. She tanned year round, either laying out (in the summer) or at a tanning booth (in the winter) so year round she had a perfect complexion.

Yeah, my sister was hot, and she knew it. She got a kick out of teasing all the guys who were constantly checking her out, flirting with them and driving them crazy. Whenever any of my friends from school would come over to the house Karen would really put on a class act, wearing her sluttiest outfits, super short skirts, virtually non-existent tops that showed off her cleavage really well. She would “accidentally” drop something and bend down really slowly right in front of them until her ass was practically totally exposed, or lean down to talk to them and show plenty of cleavage as her top opened. This drove my friends wild, but they did seem to visit a lot.

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Birthday Gift

It was his fortieth birthday, and I had decided that it was to be a memorable one. Paul and I had been married for five years. He was ten years older than me. So, I was twenty when I married him. Already at thirty, he had this salt and pepper hair that makes women look unkempt but makes men look sophisticated and dangerous. So he was, I was later to find out. Sophisticated in his tastes, from food or drink, nothing was too foreign, strange or disgusting for him not to try. With him, I developed a taste for exotic foods, frog legs, escargots, and monk fish liver. You name it, the more potent the flavor, the more he craved it; and with him, so did I.

His taste for liquor was just as eclectic as his food choices. Not just the single malt Scotch or small batch Bourbon that the cognoscenti rave about. He had Absinthe brought over from Slovakia, Raki from Turkey, and a particularly favored Grappa-like drink from some place in Spain.

I grew up in Omaha, Nebraska, as Middle America as apple pie and biscuits. That may have been what attracted me, at twenty, to this man, so much my senior. He entered my life like a tornado, sweeping everything before him. Soon, I found myself skiing double diamond terrain, shooting white water rapids, and diving in the open ocean; all things I had never even thought of doing. We got engaged at 120 ft of depth, in the great wall of Little Cayman. I was so surprised I almost dropped the ring, and that would have been a disaster, since the bottom of the ocean is about three thousand feet deep at that point! I have followed Paul ever since, and never regretted it for a second.

Now, after five years of marriage, I decided I shall give him a gift to remember. I changed a lot from the wide eyed ingénue from Omaha in these years, but one thing, until now, did not change. I never accepted his, shall I say temptations? In the matter of sex I remained the proper conservative American girl. Of course we had oral sex, but aside of that; the kinkiest thing we ever did was to do it in the kitchen. And I knew, and know, that he wanted more. He kept a large collection of erotica, in his library. Although locked, these books, tapes and art, have always been available to me even though I did not avail myself of them until recently. That’s when I realized how much I was withholding from him and, for the first time became afraid, afraid that he would find someone who would give him what I would not.

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Naughty Schoolgirl Gets Spanked

Anne was running late. She rushed down the empty hallway to her first class, chemistry with Mr. Molger. Stopping at the door, she took a deep breath and hoped to slip to her lab table without him noticing. Instead she walked into a silent classroom. All the test taking students looked up at her. Damn, how could she have forgotten it was test day too?

“Miss Turner, this is your 4th tardy, go to the principal’s office.”

“But I…”

“Go.” He didn’t even look up from his book.

Dejected, Anne turned on her heel and left the classroom. She had never been sent to the principal’s office in her whole life. As a new transfer to the all girls school midway through her senior year, it had not been easy. Especially adjusting to the uniforms. She tugged at her blouse, it had shrunk in the wash and was tight across her breasts. It had also taken her weeks to get used to wearing a skirt with thigh high socks. She felt like had accidentally flashed half the school her panties before learning to sit with her legs closed.

Entering the principal’s office, she slumped into a waiting chair. To the secretary, she said, “Mr. Molger sent me here because of my 4th tardy.”

Miss Aimes nodded and picked up the phone. “Sir? Anne Turner is here to be punished.”

Anne swallowed hard. Punished? She thought she’d get a stern lecture or detention. What was going on?

Miss Aimes listened to Principal Jeffer’s response. “Yes Sir.” She hung up the phone. “You may go in now, Anne.”

Anne nodded, hoping that her nervousness wasn’t showing. She stood and walked into the next room.

“Shut the door behind you, Miss Turner.”

She did and turned back to Principal Jeffers. He was seated in a large leather chair behind a massive wooden desk. She vaguely remember meeting him before when her step-father enrolled her here a few months ago. She did remember how large his hand was when he shook hers that day. The rest of his size matched, he was tall, broad shouldered and looked like he had played football back in his high school days.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was my 4th tardy. My car wouldn’t start and…”

“Shush.” He held his hand up and her mouth snapped close. “We are very strict at this school and don’t allow this type of thing to continue. I’m surprised you weren’t sent here for a uniform violation.”

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Lesbian Student Seduction

I can see her watching me. Pretending not to, casting her eyes down to the novel in front of her every time I catch her eye from across the patio of this open-air café. Well, I’ve been watching her, too—long enough to know that she’s been “reading” the same page for the last 45 minutes.

I’m used to stares, and I’ve gotten pretty good at deciphering them. I know the glare of disapproval by those who think my tattoos, piercings, and radically dyed hair (today? black and red faux-hawk) are wholly inappropriate for a young lady such as myself. But I much prefer this kind of staring, not of outright lust (I know that one, too, and believe me, I’ve gotten my share of it, from women and men), but of curiosity and tentative arousal—usually from young, twentysomethings like this luscious little chick who’s looking at me now, totally oblivious to the copy of Jane Eyre she’s supposed to be reading.

I know I look pretty good, too, in this wifebeater tank that shows off the tats on my shoulders (a red star and a raven) and my armbands. When I catch her looking at me again, I hold her eyes for a second and slowly lick the silver bead on the tip of my lipring—a subtle move, indiscernible to most of the other patrons of the café, but one that reads loud and clear to the prey of my seduction, four tables over. She blushes and looks back down at her page, but I can see her trying to keep herself from grinning.

It’s a weakness of mine, these straight girls. I live in a college town, so there’s usually no shortage of nubile innocents who are living away from home for the first time and want to “experiment.” Luckily for them, I don’t mind being the lab.

I put out my cigarette, take a final sip of my espresso, and shut my notebook rather audibly. I make a big show of putting it into my backpack and I get her attention—there it is. That’s the look I was going for. She looks at me with mild panic, thinking I’m going to leave and kicking herself for being so timid. I get up and make like I’m going for the gate, then at the last minute swerve over to her table and sit down in the empty chair across from her.

“Hi, I’m Lara,” I say, offering my hand, as natural as if we’d just been introduced at a party.

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The Wall

Chapter one, Discipline

Evie Lyn stepped out of the shower onto the cool tile floor. She quickly dried herself, letting her long brown hair hang loosely. She briefly examined her petite five foot three inch body in the mirror, and with a final look over her shoulder, she patted her firm ass and stepped into her bedroom. She sat on the bed for a moment, cooling off from the steamy shower, and thought about her somewhat bizarre life.

At 28 years old, she was the younger of two children. Her brother Adam shared the modest two-bedroom suburban home with her. They had moved in together to save money years ago. Undoubtedly because their last names where the same, their neighbors thought that they were married. In a way, they were. They never actually got married, but about a year after moving from their cramped condo in the city, they did renew their marriage vows. Getting an initial marriage license would have been awkward, and both morally and legally wrong. But, no one ever checks obviously married couples who want to renew their love and devotion. Adam and Evie Lyn enjoyed all the benefits of married life.

Both Adam and Evie had, from the beginning, almost ten years ago, lived a very curious and unconventional lifestyle. Adam, now 35, has, for most of his life been fascinated with women’s underwear. He loved wearing silky, lacy and sheer lingerie. Evie not only approved of this fetish, but she encouraged it. They have several matching outfits, and often lounge around the house in their frillies. Their ‘toy box’ contains dildos and butt plugs of varying sizes, and strap-on harnesses. They have experimented with chastity and routinely play tease and deny games. They have even attended a few wife swap parties.

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Mrs. Lucy Kent was a sitting at her desk, going through the senior English compositions from her class. She knew many teachers found it tiresome, grading, but she found it relaxing. Besides, she was in no hurry to get home. After all, her husband was off on another business trip, and her daughter, Diane, was attending a camp retreat for the weekend.

Lucy had been married to Steven for fourteen years. Since he got his last promotion he has been required to go on extended business trips. The longest was two months and this trip could well be longer. Diane had just had her thirteenth birthday and with all her involvement in activities at school and church she was rarely home. So Lucy had quite a bit of free time and had no pressing commitments. She planned to finish up these papers and head to the gym for her daily workout on the way home. At Thirty-five she worked very hard to keep in shape. At 5’7″ and 120# she was proud of her body, no sagging, firm legs and tight tummy to go with her firm 35 inch bust.

Lucy was startled out her daydream by a knock at her classroom door. Looking up she saw Marie Richards, one of her senior honor’s English students. Marie was a very bright student. At eighteen she had a well developed body and a rather arrogant attitude. She was sort of a loner and despite her beauty she didn’t have a boyfriend or any friends for that matter. “Come in Marie. I haven’t finished grading the compositions yet.” “That’s not why I’m here Mrs. K. I have something I want to show you.” “Sure . What do you have?”

Marie reached into her bag and took out an old magazine. Lucy’s heart stopped as she immediately recognized the magazine. It was “Hustler” June, 82. She had always hoped that no one would discover her old secret. Marie flipped open the magazine and there all over a four page spread was her senior English teacher showing all her well put together charms. Lucy had posed in college for some very much needed money and had hoped that they would remain in her past. “I were cleaning out an old trunk of my dad’s in the attic and look at what I found.” Lucy tried to gather her wits and replied, “That was a long time ago Marie and I am not proud of it but at the time I was desperate for money to finish college. Let me have that so I can throw it away and keep it in my past.” Marie pulled back the magazine. “I don’t think so Mrs. K. We need to have a little talk. Close the door.”

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Slave Named Ama

I had been Master Robert’s slave for only 1 week now, but already I would do anything – ANYTHING – he wished of me.

“Ama!” I heard him yell, “Kneel at readiness!” I scrambled over to his feet kneeling before him. I arched my back sitting on my crossed ankles, as I spread my knees wide to reveal a glistening cunt for him. “Good, Ama. You have pleased me well.” “Thank you, Master,” I said, with my eyes lowered in respect, but my head raised high. He came over to me removing the towel he wore from his recent shower. “Look, little Ama, at what you do to me.” I smiled at him. “Yes, Master.” He revealed a very hard cock for me. “I have a surprise this day for you, Ama,” Master said, his eyes holding mine. “A surprise, Master?” “I found a trainer for you. He is going to teach you to please me.” “Master, how? I thought I already please you. Do not make me. Please,” I cried. I did not want to be with anyone, but Master Robert.

Master walked over the door without acknowledgement of my plea, to let in a huge, tanned man. His muscles bulged everywhere. He carried a soft leather whip in his hand. His eyes were steel balls that didn’t see me as a girl, but saw me only as a toy. I looked stunned, and I quivered inside barely able to breath. I went to Master’s feet to kiss them. “Please, Master.” “Master Richard will teach you to suck me without gagging as you do.” “But Master, this slave only gags once in a while.” I pleaded with him. Why did he not teach me himself if such a thing could be taught. “Hush, Ama,” Master told me, coldly.

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The Office Tease Must Learn

Pressing the enter key, confirming she wished to shut down the company PC, Amy straitened the things on her desk in preparation for leaving for the day.

Leaning further over her desk than was completely necessary, her round ass was displayed to it’s best advantage in the snug black skirt she wore. Amy knew that she had the attention of at least three of the four men in the office’s that surrounded the reception area, where she stood sentry for eight hours a day, answering the phone and typing up reports for the four men that occupied the offices. She gave a barely audible growl of frustration that Mr. Raptic continued to be unaware of her attempts to tantalize and tease.

Leaning even further over the desk, in an attempt to catch a pencil that threatened to roll off the far edge, her already short skirt riding so high that the lacy edge of her thigh high stockings peeked from beneath her skirt. Looking towards the wall of glass in front of her desk, Amy used the reflection to glance into each office, Mr. Raptic continued to ignore her. The only thing to sooth her bruised ego is the clearing of throats and muffled groans from each of the other three offices.

Straitening as she tugs the skirt back down into place, she looks towards Mr. Raptic from beneath lowered lashes. Nothing?!?! He gave no sign that he noticed her any more today than he had on the first day she walked into the office 6 months ago. His attitude towards her baffled her, no man had ever treated her with such little notice. At least not in the 10 years since she noticed she had their attention when she was only 14. From then on she had worked at perfecting the tease. Something as simple as resting the end of an ink pen against her lush bottom lip, rolling it slowly from one side of her generous mouth to the other, while one of her bosses gave her instruction was usually enough of a tease to have them forgetting the direction of their own thoughts. But Mr. Raptic was different. Hell, she was still calling him Mr. Raptic instead of using his given name like she did with each of the other men that shared the spacious office building.

“Good night Amy, see you in the morning.”

Startled from her day dreaming, Amy smiled up at Carl as he passed by her desk. “Good night Carl, you have a safe drive home.”

Leaning in each office door, she gave the customary last round “Do you need anything before I leave?”, more ritual than a true inquiry. Amy almost walked off without registering Mr. Raptic’s “Yes, come in and close the door.”

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The Mistress

Man oh man, I thought as I looked out my window. My street was closed AGAIN. But just as I was about to close the curtain, I saw something that transfixed my attention. A lovely female worker had stepped out of a truck in front of my sidewalk. She was wearing the standard bright orange reflector safety vest over her blue jeans and a work shirt. Even from across my front yard I could see that she was stunning, with long beautiful brown hair and a gorgeous young face. All morning long, I peeked through my curtains and watched her working on my street under the blistering sun. I waited until 11:30 am to take her a glass of ice cold lemonade and introduce myself. She thankfully took the glass and drained it in a single swallow.

I explained that I had seen her working and thought she could use something cold to drink. “Thanks, man. Hey, I’m just about to go on my lunch. Mind if I come inside for another?” Of course, I agreed. She made herself at home in the living room while I went to the kitchen to get her some more lemonade. As I handed her the glass, she said, “Man, I saw you watching me all day.” She must have seen the astonished look on my face. “Oh, don’t worry about it, man. Actually, it was kind of cute. But I knew I’d just have to come in here and try you out”, she winked at me, “if you know what I mean.” Standing up, she came over to me and took my hand. “Take me to your bedroom.”

I hesitated, things were moving just a little too fast for me. “NOW!,” she yelled. The force of her command startled me, but I did as I was told. Once we were in the bedroom, she shut the door and turned to me. “When I see something I want, I take it,” she said. “We either do this my way, or not at all. Understand?”

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