She had completely lost control over the situation! Her arms were taped behind her back, crossed upwards, and secured to her upper arms. Her feet stretched out, failing to reach the floor. He kept her suspended, holding her by her buttocks. She could smell his breath: the boy had been drinking! He smiled, and repeated: "I will put you down if you give me a kiss..."
Continue reading →

Although they had been probably there from the very beginning, in his genes, the discovery of his feelings of dominance with regards to the other sex had been a coincidental course of events. Least of a coincidence would have been at what age they had started to manifest: he had been 16 years old. At an age thus that sexual feelings start to develop in all fierceness. Also, his love for the judo sport had played a role. Rick had started quite late, at fifteen, and he hadn't come further than the yellow belt. Luckily, there had been another boy, in the same circumstance, and because most of their fellow pupils were way younger than they, they were usually coupled in the training. Because of their lack of technique, and their long, awkward physiques, their sessions often offered unique spectacles. Most of the time it looked more like grappling than judo.

Continue reading →

Her Secret

"I can't do that! I LOVE you!" Brent was looking at her, eyes wide, full of disbelieve. "How can you even ask such a thing of me!" He shook his head, and repeated: "I LOVE you..." "But that's just it, Brent..!" Anita was desperately fighting to find the right words. God, how had she dreaded this conversation! And rightly so, it turned out. Alright, he had not bolted out of the room. But this face full of disgust and incredulity had been second on her list of fears. Still, she had to push on, because the last months their relation had been going down the drain.
They hadn't slept with each other for over two months now. After little over a year Brent had finally given up on her in bed, with her lackluster attitude. He had accepted that his wife apparently had no need for a passionate sex life, and because he loved her deeply nevertheless, he resigned him self, secretly hoping for a miracle.

Continue reading →

It had been 1987. He had been sixteen years of age, when he entered his mothers room, finding her sorting out photographs for their family album. On the table, to her left, there was a big, disorderly pile of pictures, and right in front of her lay the album. To her right, a tube of glue and a pen with which she wrote her commentaries. Even further right though, lay a photograph, isolated from the rest, its backside up. "What's that, Mom?", he had asked. But before he had even pointed to it, she had picked it up and put it in a drawer. "That's not for the eyes of a little boy!", she had said.
A fatal remark of course, at that age.

As if Marc's relationship with is mother wasn't complicated enough already! Of course: he did love her. But Mrs. Montague was a very stern ruler of the family. Marc's father was a diplomat, and he was seldom present. His mother ruled the house as an absolute matriarchy. She was extremely dominant, and that had started to awaken some rebellious feelings, where Marc was concerned.
His two sisters, aged nine and eleven didn't yet share those sentiments, but Marc's defiance made sure that he would not rest before he knew what that picture was about.

Continue reading →