Stories by Gwen

I've been teasing Eva all morning. She's at work but she makes time to do the little tasks I assign her. Today she has stood before the mirror in the ladies' room and teased her lovely nipples for me. I gave her a script: I belong to you, Miss Gwen. I'm your filthy horny slut and I'll do whatever you say. I'm your fucktoy, your insatiable pussy-licking whore. You own me, every filthy nasty bit of me, and I'll do anything you want. Anything. She recited this as she pinched and twisted and tugged her nipples hard, watching in the mirror, hoping none of her colleagues would come in. We have had some close calls in the past. I know the pain in her nipples travels through Eva's body like lightning, quickly making her pussy wet. I have her dab some of that wetness on her pulse points like perfume and smear some more on her face. Anyone who gets close to her today will smell her sex, like an animal in heat. Eva returns to work, her bra and panties tu...

Gwen is coming to town. For two or three weeks, it's all I can think about. Gwen is coming. I'm counting the days. Finally the big day arrives. She invites me to meet her at her hotel - the same luxury business hotel where she always stays. She always gets a big suite on the floor reserved for frequent travelers. I park in the lot and make my way through the lobby. I announce myself to the concierge on Gwen's floor, who checks a list before directing me to a door at the end of the hall. I press the button and hear a musical chime. The door opens and Gwen is there. I am always surprised, in person, to be taller than Gwen. Her virtual presence is larger than life. I guess that's natural, given the nature of our relationship. Gwen is dominant, I am submissive. I get pleasure from being told what to do, from being or doing or experiencing whatever Gwen decides. She gets pleasure, she says, from controlling me, from treating me like an object, a sex toy to be used however s...

I've decided to allow you to attend your company party. I am escorting you. We'll put on evening dresses to mingle with the corporate executives and important clients. I'm wearing a little cocktail dress. You're wearing a black halter dress and a delicate collar that discreetly symbolizes that you belong to me. And heels, of course. The party is being held high above the city. The room is beautiful in a spare, modern way. There's a bar in the middle, and all around the edges are floor-to-ceiling windows. You can stand and look down at cars navigating the nighttime streets far below. We look at out the moon and it seems almost close enough to touch. You see your co-workers in a new light, dressed up as they never dress for work, all in their fanciest and prettiest clothes. Suits and ties, cocktail dresses, gowns. The executives and their young trophy wives cluster together drinking scotch. We sip wine as we walk slowly through the room, intent in conversation. After ...

Attending a women's college was not my idea. I had the grades to get into any number of good universities. What I lacked was the means. St. Abigail offered a generous scholarship and a work-study program that would afford me a chance to earn spending money during the school year. Once my parents did the numbers, the decision was made. The brochure tried hard to sell the benefits of single-sex studying. St. Abigail would give me "a chance to focus on classwork without the social distractions of a typical campus," all that. I had my own opinion: All work and no play makes Jen a dull girl. But as I say, it wasn't my decision. And so it was I found myself in Prior Hall on a crisp New England morning. Freshman composition. Some of the classes that met later in the week might prove to be a challenge, but I wasn't worried about composition. I know how to write grammatical sentences and well-structured essays. I actually didn't think I needed this remedial course...

I want you to help me find a new sub. We'll be partners. We'll pick her out and we'll kidnap her and take her to this cabin I know a couple hours away. She'll be so scared when we get there. When she calms down a little I will congratulate her on her new life. I'll tell her that she now has an infinitely obedient sextoy to use in any way she sees fit. She will awaken to gentle cunnilingus every morning. She will be gently bathed in the shower or tub. She'll receive massages throughout the day. Sex of any kind whenever she wants. From you. She won't believe it. So we'll have to make a little demonstration. I can give you to her, but she needs some training. An owner's manual. She'll want to be considerate at first, to treat you like a person. I'll show her how to treat you as an object. I'll put you on all fours during our conversation so I can put my feet up and use you as a footrest. I'll let her know that she doesn...

I enjoy being dominant but I am not a sadist. When I engage with a submissive girl, I accept responsibility for decision-making in our relationship, particularly regarding sex. That means that I am no longer responsible just for my own pleasure, but for hers as well. That is a big responsibility and I take it seriously. If a partner requires a bit of humiliation or pain for satisfaction, then I will provide it. But I take no direct pleasure from hurting anyone. We all have comfort zones. We know what we like and what feels safe to us. As I get to know my partners I learn where the borders and edges of their comfort zones are. We go there, right to the edge. And when we have established trust and all seems right, I lead them a half-step over into the thrilling territory they didn't dare explore before - or, more commonly, that they never suspected they would find so exciting and fulfilling. When the chemistry is just right, the sub takes an adventure tour of erotic discovery a...

The clock slips from 11:58 to 11:59. Almost noon - but not quite. You've told me to wait until noon and I will. I have to. You wouldn't know if I peeked early, but I would. And I can't violate your directions. That is where your power settles on me. I couldn't betray it without betraying myself in a fundamental way. Obeying you is who I am. A minute finally passes. Noon. I stand and walk with purpose to the restroom. It's time to check my panties. This morning you left a note within them, face down, telling me not to check it until noon. You seem to love communicating through these byzantine channels, codes, and timely rendezvous It's a bit of a game, I suppose, but it's serious too. You're always leading me forward, and I've learned I need that. I've needed it since I met you. The note. It will give me a hint about what you intend to do to me tonight. I close the stall door, sliding my slacks and panties down together. Between my legs, nestled i...