Free XXX Sex Stories Blog

We’ve gone over to Jon’s one evening. Susan is out of town, and we decided to keep Jon company. He made dinner for us, and we brought some good German beer. I’ve had a few glasses of wine with dinner. After dinner, we’re sitting in the living room, just talking, some about art, some about people you and Jon know. It was a long week for all of us and it’s nice to chat with friends and relax. Everyone feels very calm, although you suspect there is some undercurrent of sexual tension. You had teased me before we left home, and now, after dinner, you notice my nipples through my shirt. I’m a little flushed, but it could be from the wine.

I’m sitting at your feet and your hand is on the back of my neck, sometimes stroking my head, almost petting me. I am drifting off a little as you and Jon start to talk about some esoteric part of history that doesn’t interest me too much. I am content to let my mind meander and not worry. I lean back, now, between your legs, and put my head on your thigh. As you lean forward, you reach down and stroke one of my breasts very gently.

At first it is very natural and not conspicuous. Jon may not even notice because he is very intent on the discussion at hand. But as time goes on, you become more and more purposeful, obvious about what you are doing. Your fingers occasionally stray over my [tag]nipples[/tag], even pinching the right nipple, once. I close my eyes to concentrate on the feelings, so I am pretty unaware of how much Jon is noticing. You start fiddling with the buttons on my shirt, and almost casually undo the first three or four. Reaching into the opened shirt, through my bra, you take hold of my ring firmly and suddenly.

“Jon, Alice’s breasts are really very beautiful” you say, almost quietly.

Jon looks confused for a moment about Alice, but then realizes. You or I must have told him that Alice is my bottom name, and your signal that we are playing. It clicks in his head with what you have been doing for the last ten minutes.

(click to read entire story…)

Well, it was Thursday afternoon. Almost the end of another long day at work. As Amy passed my desk she said, “Cheer up – dinner time soon.” She and I had begun to share dinner together on Thursdays as we are almost neighbors and, being recently divorced, enjoy visiting. I replied with a tired smile, “I know – if I can survive that long!” Little did I realize what was soon to be in store for me.

Five o’clock came after what seemed an eternity and we were heading home together in the car. As we came inside the house, she said, “Why don’t you go ahead and change, I’ll start the pasta?” I agreed and went off toward the bedroom. I began removing my blazer suit: hung my blazer in the closet; unbuttoned my blouse and tossed it into the laundry basket; kicked off my pumps and wiggled my tired feet; unzipped my skirt and put it over the chair; unrolled my hose and tossed them on top of the blouse, removed my bra and panties and tossed them also.

I went to into the bathroom to wash up but before I could start the water Amy came in. “What are doing?” I asked. She had never seen me undressed before now. She grabbed my wrists and before I could react she had handcuffed my wrists together behind my back. “What the fuck are you doing!!” I yelled. She answered, “I’m going to give you what you deserve slut. I’m tired of the way you tease the men at work! You and your slutty clothes!! Where do you get off coming on to the guys like you do?? Wearing no bra, and skirts to show off your pussy – you must be a slut or whore!!” I was shocked speechless by what she was saying.

She pulled me over to the bed and tied my ankles to the corner bedposts. She then tied a piece of cord to each wrist and then to each bedpost at the headboard. As she unlocked the handcuffs, she pulled tight on the cords and my wrists were then securely tied also. I was very scared and began struggling against the bonds she had tied, but it was no use – they were very tight. She then placed a ball gag in my mouth and fastened it with a leather strap. I was very terrified now. There I was: tied spread-eagled to the bed and gagged. I couldn’t move or yell!

(click to read entire story…)

As Jim rode the Metro North train from the Connecticut suburbs into New York’s Grand Central Station, he was eagerly anticipating the coming hour’s event. The previous night he had telephoned in a response to an ad in Screw Magazine’s “Hells Belles” section. Along with the myriad ads for mistresses and dungeons, promising to do all sort of unspeakable things to one’s body, was one featuring “total physical domination” and wrestling. Jim had long fantasized about being physically dominated by a strong, attractive woman, being forced to submit repeatedly to painful [tag]submission[/tag] holds. After talking to Carol, the placer of the ad, Jim felt that he had just found the answer to his fantasies. Carol promised that she could easily make him beg to be released. She especially liked to work scissors and choke holds, and really got off on totally dominating her “victim.” Even more than her more “normal” trade, dominating men by bondage and spanking, she really loved using her body to punish them. After hearing all that, Jim immediately made an appointment with Carol for the next afternoon. Now his dream was about to be realized.

The walk from Grand Central to the 27th Street address Carol had given Jim seemed to take forever, Jim was so anxious for his match to begin. As he walked along, Jim dreamed of being held by Carol in various holds, but failed to understand how a girl who sounded so sexy on the phone could manage to squeeze a submission out of him. He had watched many videos of mixed matches where the women had the men yelling out agonized submissions, but it was always obvious that the holds were staged and the men were submitting “for the camera.” Although Jim was slightly built, at 5’8″ and 140 pounds, he felt he was strong enough to take any woman. Carol’s promise to make him beg for mercy seemed remote.

Finally he reached the address. He rang the doorbell, and someone buzzed him in. He climbed the two flights of stairs promised by Carol and knocked on her door. After a minute the door was opened by a very tall pretty blonde wearing an electric blue housecoat. “Hi, you must be Jim,” she said pleasantly. “I’m Carol. Come on in.”

Jim walked in to a pleasant apartment, dominated by several large wrestling mats placed on the floor. What furniture there was was pushed to one side. “As you can see, I have everything ready for our match. Do you have something for me, Jim?” said Carol.

Jim fished in his pocket and found the $200 they had agreed on. Carol took it into another room and quickly returned. “While you strip down to your shorts, I’ll go over the ground rules. Ok?”

(click to read entire story…)

I had never been an actual slave in “real life,” although I had had strong fantasies about being a slave for just about as long as I could remember. I have a very submissive nature, especially around someone who is able to bring out that side of me. This story is about a Mistress I served.

Mistress R. was my online Mistress. We had never actually met; we only corresponded through the email on a local BBS. All I knew about her was what I could read in her “bio.” She was 33 years old, 5’9″ tall and weighed 140 pounds. She was married and had red hair. Most of the other answers in her bio were normal enough, but under a question about personality types, she had selected “dominant.” Of course, with my submissive side, I had to write to her and explore just what she meant by that answer, and I was happy to learn that she liked to fantasize about being a Mistress. Based on this, we soon formed an online relationship with her as the Mistress and me as the slave. She made it very clear that since she was happily married this could never be anything more than “electronic play,” and I readily agreed. Right from the beginning she was very demanding. She remained totally in control and things seldom went the way I wished, but as I followed her orders (by myself, in front of the computer), I began to feel myself mentally coming under her control.

She began my training by telling me that as her slave, my body become her property. Just like I wouldn’t think of touching a Mistress without permission, she required me to ask for her permission and to follow certain rules she set forth before I was allowed to touch “her penis.” She ordered me to relieve her penis three times a day, but I was never allowed to even touch it if I was on any kind of furniture; I had to be kneeling or laying on the floor. This was very hard for me, since reading her letters or chatting with her or thinking about her made me very horny; it was hard to keep my hands off of her penis. I was required to send her a daily report once a day about how I had relieved her penis, how I had carried out any of her other orders, and describing my feelings to her.

Let me explain that although we never played in person, I tried to the best of my ability to obey her every command exactly as she wished, without complaint. I was not entirely successful, I think in part due to the fact that I probably needed her watching over me to insure total obedience. It was enough, though, to make me feel totally like her property. I was honest with her, so whenever I disobeyed or did not follow her orders, I told her so. Being an online computer relationship, I could have lied and she would never have known, but I think then I would have missed out on many of the feelings that came along with it. I really began to think and feel as if I were under her control.

(click to read entire story…)

A co-worker said to me, “Everybody’s got a broken heart story!” I imagine that they do. I had a lot of trouble getting over mine. You’ll never know how many times I wrote this story, reliving the moments described here. This is a true story. In the interest of my good mental health it’s far past time for me to post this story and delete all copies I have of it and be done with it. Don’t ask me for additional copies, real names or real places. Any mail I receive regarding this story will be ignored and forgotten.

April Fool’s Day of 1981 – “Playing the Fool”

I used to work nights at the hospital. I liked how quiet the hospital was on night shift. With only a few duties to perform, I often read all night long. At the end of night shift would come a beautifully still morning, where I could go downtown and take care of daily business before most people were awake.

The only problem with night shift is not being able to sleep with my girlfriend, Jane. Because her schedule was opposite of mine, she had stayed home all night and would go to work later in the day. The only time I had a chance to be with her was early mornings. I treasured these mornings we had together. My future plans at the time included not only mornings together, but living our lives together.

I walked softly down the hall in the early morning light, trying not to wake my neighbors in the adjacent apartments. I opened the door and threw my coat on a nearby chair. I tiptoed to the bedroom door hoping I could slide quietly into bed with my lover, Jane. As I neared the door, I noticed it was shut. As I stood just outside the door I heard a low sounding noise.

I will never forget what I saw next as I walked into the room. That moment will replay in my head for many years to come.
(click to read entire story…)