Slavery Stories

Susan's Daughter Candice disappeared. One day her prayers were answered... sort of. Susan received a DVD in the mail postmarked from Las Vegas. It was Candice in a hotel room smiling to the camera. "Hi Mom it's me, hope you're not worrying about me? I'm having a great time. Listen don't freak out but I'm having sex, lots and lots of sex."

With apologies to Phillip Marlowe and Mickey Spillane...a down-at-the-heels private detective searching for a missing wallet unwittingly stumbles into the Devil's clutches.

After the world unites, lives continue to be forever changed
Part of the World Community Government universe
This is a totally standalone story from the WCG series. There's no actual sex but plenty of talk about it, among other things. If a lot of sex, torture and gore discussion make you feel squeamish, give this one a miss. It doesn't do too much to further the plot of the WCG series anyway.

When he retires from being a pro tennis player, Julio Alvares establishes his purposely remote tennis academy for boys on the Indian Ocean coast of Madagascar not simply to create focus for the boys but also because the age of consent in Madagascar is fourteen. Some boys will do anything for the chance to train to be a tennis star.

Firstly, apologies to all witches; I know that this tale has no bearing on your ways and practices, it is pure fantasy. Back in the 1600's the 'Witchfinder General' was responsible for the deaths of over 300 women, many totally innocent, others persecuted for their beliefs. A pledge for vengeance on all those descending from one Matthew Hopkins is confirmed by a coven, whose dark order is passed down the generations by its dominant female members; their quest to eliminate, relentless.

When a young trucker stops at an out of the way yet surprisingly busy truckstop, he soon discovers the main attraction of the place: the teenage toilets.

Life in the Roman Empire was very difficult, especially for female slaves. This story is somewhat erotic, but mainly a historical drama.

My eyes watered, tears mixing with the drool, streaming down my face as I was face fucked into oblivion, the sound of my gagging and screaming the only music in the dark room. The assault was so intense, so overwhelming, that my body began to rebel. It was not just saliva. It was a physical expulsion of fluids triggered by the sheer thickness of the intrusion. I gagged, a convulsive heave that had no escape route, and it came out in a thick, clear stream of mucus.