Fetish + BDSM Fiction

Tom’s heart was pounding as he turned off the main road and into the deserted side street. It was cooler down here; the narrow space between two tall buildings offered him some shade from the mid-afternoon summer sun. He glanced behind him into the main street, as if to check that nobody was following him (he knew they weren’t), and then walked past a couple of large dustbins towards the small black door. This was the place. To the left of the door was a small plaque with a single word upon it: HOGGER’S. Tom hesitated, his hand trembling, and then he took a deep breath, pushed the button and heard a buzzer echo distantly behind the door. There was a brief pause and then it clicked open. Tom stepped over the threshold and closed it behind him. He was at the top of a narrow flight of steps. The walls were dark, the lighting subdued, especially compared to the blazing sunshine in the main road. It was a lot cooler in here than outside as well, Tom noticed, and he cautiously descended the ...

Thursday evening and I was heading for a few days off once again, and I had not made any plans so far. I was thinking of just spending the time at home relaxing, but then again, a bit change would be nice too, but I could not think of something short term to go to or where to travel on short notice. I chatted with some friends on internet when one of them suddenly asked me what I have planned for the weekend. I told him that I was not having any plans and even had freed the week after that and asked him if he had any interesting ideas. He came back to me that he got invited to be part of a fetish party in a bar on the coming Saturday and wondered if I was interested too, since they still were looking for a few more people. I asked what they looked for and he told me they needed more people to be volunteering there, bottleboys, waiters, barmen etc. etc. and if I would be interested he could let them know. I thought that generally I was up for something to do and taking part on such part...

It is mid morning, and everything is quiet, the day is taking its normal course. We have been through the usual morning routine, with you feeding me through my mouth tubes and cleaning me, removing what has gone through my body yesterday at the other end from two tubes at my groin area. You left the house a few hours ago, and I am left alone, stuck and immobile inside my rigid plastic prison. The one thing I can move are my eyes; I can see my encased body in it’s flesh-coloured plastic coating, reflected in the mirror opposite, through the tiny pin hole eyes set in the mask that shuts my face off from the world. The vibrator set into the plastic bottom of my cocoon expands and moves continually in my arse, sending a series of orgasmic tremors through my immobile and frustrated body, and I would surely scream from physical pleasure were it not for the firm rubber shape of the mask’s open mouth, a gag perfectly contoured to the inside of my own, making anything other than a near silent...