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Campus Lesson 18 Write
On Let’s
Talk About Text Are
Words Worth a Thousand Pictures? Power
Of Text
Making
his way to the bedroom, he quickly stripped out of his clothes.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and turned on the CD player.
John felt his body beginning to relax; as he fell back on the bed
the music soothing away the tensions as he drifted off to sleep.
His last thought as he drifted off to sleep was the music and the
faint smell of my perfume.
I
look at the clock, only 5 minutes until you arrive. I look in the
mirror, my heart beating fast, making sure that I am just perfect
for my Master. My black silk dress hugging my body, I run my hands
over my breasts watching my nipples strain against the silk. The
length of my dress barely covers my firm bottom. I run my hand up
my black stockings, smiling, as I know that my Master will be pleased.
My
name is Troy. I have always been dominant. I like being in control,
it makes things easier. I want to know what my employees are doing,
what my wife and what my kids are doing. I have never found it difficult
to find submissive women, for some women it’s normal. Others need
to be trained. Especially the feminist ones. I say all the right
things at work, and there is no problem with equal rights at work.
But as a boss I have the right to be in control. I have the right
as a husband and as a father.
This
was to be a weekend adventure. Her master didn't tell her much,
just that there was fun to be had by all. She sat on the edge of
the bed with her head down staring at the floor. Her master stood
in front of her reading the instructions for the weekend of fun.
# 1 she was not to talk unless spoken to by her master. # 2 she
was not to do anything without her master's permission. # 3 when
in public she would stand just behind him. # 4 she would sit at
his feet at all times. #5 and most important she would do what ever
pleased her master.
She
had never thought of having her pussy fucked like that before by
a woman but now that it had she knew she wanted more and the thoughts
made her wet. She would never forget this weekend and the stink
in her ass wouldn't let her. She rested in her bed waiting to find
out what was to come next from this weekend. The bids had gone in
the night before but no slave knew which master she was to please.
They only knew which room they were to go to. Just as the slaves
had rules to follow so did the masters to ensure everyone's pleasure
and safety. She had found an envelope on her pillow. After showering
she would put on a sheer cover up and report to a back room in the
basement.
In
two short strides he was behind her and as she straighten up from
the oven. Then as she turned around he picked her up and pushed
her onto the counter, sending dishes everywhere. He kissed her with
such force that she was pushed into the wall cupboards. His tongue
forced it's way past her lips, while his hands ran across the satin
of her blouse. His hands finding the buttons but passion and frustration
were just too much and with one movement he ripped her blouse open,
buttons flying everywhere.
The
man was about ten years her junior from what she could guess. He
was tall and slender and rather good-looking. His hair was light
in color and was of medium length with a gentle wave to it. He raised
his glass and smiled at her. With a quick twist of her head she
looked down afraid that her husband would notice and become jealous.
He leaned into her and as he pulled her closer to him he whispered,
" I saw you watching him, just remember you are mine", and with
that he pushed his hand between her legs and forced a finger into
her pussy. She tried not to let her shock show, hoping that no one
else in the bar could see what he was doing.
The
young man turned his head and said, " Ahhh about time you joined
us buddy, she is as good as l remember". Those words rung out in
her head and she stopped what she was doing. Pulling the cock from
her mouth she looked at both the men with a questioned look on her
face. Her husband looked at her and said, " Turn about Hun". With
those few words memories flowed back to her and she realized where
she knew that touch from and turned a bright shade of red. Both
men smiled and the room fell silent. "Now what?" was all she spoke?
This
very straight looking businessman came in the other day and rented
a room for two hours so I knew he didn’t want to sleep. I went into
the next room and watched. The man sheds his pinstripe suit and
cordovan shoes. He’s got short blond hair, a fairly hairy toned
body that looks like he works out and nice size equipment. Soon
after the door bell rings and he opens the door to admit a curvaceous
brunette. "Thank you for coming here Mistress, how may I serve you"
he asks her." "Have you brought me an offering?" she replied. "Yes
Mistress I have. I hope it meets with your approval Mistress." She
took the money and sneered. "It will do. Slave, unzip my dress."
Hands and
feet bound to the chair behind him and another rope holding his chest back and totally
immobile, he felt his pants coming undone by yet another set of hands. His mind raced.
What was happening? Who was doing this to him? The questions faded from his mind as soon
as they were asked as he felt his own cock being taken into someone's mouth. He felt like
the little slut. Being used as a means for these two guys to cream into his belly. He
felt like he wanted to burst himself as the hot cum jetted down his throat, and filled
him with deep warmth. He swallowed down every succulent drop and just as the last ropes
of cream melted into him. The sensations around his shaft disappeared and another cock
took it's place in his mouth. A soft whisper came into Zack's ear, "Thank you baby.
I'll be back when I am ready for you again." It was the bartender that had just served
him.
I had found
that it invited oral more often than being unshaved. I loved that. She caressed my
thighs, and a parted my legs a bit, wanting her to touch me. She didn't though,
chuckling softly at my predicament. I could not even see. She moved me over to the
large easy chair in her bedroom, that sat by the television. She unclasped my bra as
I stood, facing the chair, and she let my heavy breasts bounce free. Her hands slid
around and sampled their weight, and their firm, youthful texture, crooning out her
approval again. I lowered my head. God I was getting wet from this. She then had me
get up onto the easy chair, and I did as I was told, on my knees, facing the back of the
chair. I placed my hands up on the back of the chair to steady myself, and found that
the top had, toward the back, so you could not hit your head on it sitting down, a metal
rod, bolted to it, with a little space between it and the chair. I held it with my
hands, my body suddenly tingling with life. This was a chair with a purpose, it seemed.
She took the trailing end of the rope that tied it securely to the bar, and I trembled a
bit, feeling a drop of my own hot nectar sliding down my inner thigh.
