The master of the manor at Crowley, in Devon, England, of the 1880s, has a fetish for fourteen-year-old stable boys recruited from the fields. There's a new crop of them every year, and using a riding crop is another one of Sir Stanley's fetishes.
This one is not what you'd usually expect from me. For starters, this story contains no futanari. It is a male on female story with BDSM elements. This one-shot story is dedicated to Luna, my beloved wife, you are my muse.
Julie knows her life is about to change. Her sorority sisters are all total bitches. Her girlfriend is trying to steal her boyfriend. Her boyfriend is planning to cheat on her. Her masseuse is hitting on her. It is time to get a butterfly tattoo.
Building collapses are usually a tragedy for everyone, but when the Miami condo of a man, Peter Stroud, going from one new identify, Matthew Finney, to yet another one, Terrence Sinclair, while on the escape from being caught indulging in his fetish for fourteen-year-old boys, comes down in a deep pile of rubble, he, presumed to be under the pile, is given an opportunity to escape to Italy and to try again, with his fetish having been extended.
Her plans for a night in with a 'friend' are ruined when a party her son and his friends are to go to is cancelled. To her dismay the boys decide to hold their own party with her as the entertainment!
A comely senior lady gets attacked in her home by two intruders. She is securely bound and gagged, before her assailants take turns raping her. A fantasy tale which my wife and I often enacted as role play when we were younger. Tight bondage and rough sex.