Cowboy Slave Pen 01 -- All Tied Up

Perfect Miss Helga By Aer Snow96 ***Hello and thank you for taking the time to read this short I made. I wrote this somewhat spicy short story to blow off some steam and as a quick break from my other projects. Thank you by the way, for the support given to my other works.I really do appreciate it, and it keeps me motivated to keep on writing these stories. Thank you so much! Anyway, let me know in the comments what you think of this quick work of mine. I feel that it's rough around the edges. I just needed to get it out there since I have a bad habit of getting bogged down in the most tiniest details and thus never releasing any work since I think they are never I wanted them to be. Constructive feedback is appreciated. ****All characters participating in any sexual activity are above 18 years old. Why can't they understand that this was important work? Thought Rebecca as she sat primly, nose high and back straight. She was volunteering work for donations in the community ch...

The band was packing up and Frank Sinatra's "In the Wee Small Hours" was playing on the sound system as the five women reclaimed their coats and exited the club. Joseph was waiting for them but this time he didn't leave the car to greet them; it was late and cold, and he'd been working hard while they danced and drank. They had barely been on the road a minute when Angel slid onto the floor, knelt in front of Jodie, and pulled her legs apart. Jodie's eyes went wide with surprise as Angel lifted her skirt and leaned down to place a kiss on the crotch of her panties. She was quite wet down there, both with sweat and lubrication, from the dirty dancing she and Angel had been doing; when Angel pulled the thin strip of fabric aside, her pussy lips were a vivid, glistening pink. As Angel ran the tip of her tongue up the length of Jodie's slit, Miss White glanced over at Monika, who was watching raptly with intense, flashing eyes. And it was indeed a beautiful ...

After moving into a new house, I saw the neighbors Alyssa and Alyssa out by their pool. They waved and introduced themselves. After a few weeks, I saw Alyssa sitting by the pool. She asked if my wife Sarah wanted to come by the pool with her. I told her I would check. Sarah went out to the pool as I went to work. Later that night I asked how it went. She said "She is so much fun. She is very handsy when she drinks some wine!" When I asked what that meant, she shrugged it off and giggled. A few days went by, and Sarah could not stop talking about how much fun Alyssa was. I was glad she had a good friend, but I was also wondering what they were doing by the pool when they hang out. I saw my wife was getting tan, but I did not see new tan lines. I thought that was odd. When my wife texted that she was hanging out with her again, I snuck home and began watching them from the house. I saw them start to rub lotion on each other and then I saw Alyssa reach around and squeeze Sarah...

In Trapped Part 1 Debbie was compromised as she posed nude for local photographers and movie makers Ray and Lyn. As a result, she has been blackmailed into performing in their pornographic movies. She has just received an invitation to attend their studio for the first shoot. Part 2 completes the story. Debbie's adventures after "Trapped" continue in "Tuition". ********* Once Debbie had received the message from Lyn, she immediately dispatched David to her parents' house to re-connect with the family and relieve her Mother and Father. To excuse her absence, she fabricated an alibi around some part-time contract work she was undertaking for an ex-colleague in Norwich. David was pleased to go and she promised to follow as soon as the job was completed. She couldn't face the strain of sustaining the deception with David while, at the same time, preparing herself for the inevitable trauma of her first performance. She hardly slept and was up at first light...

The girls make it back to Colorado, enjoying some solitude after their crazy week in Connecticut. TAMMY: The blaring sound of 'Reveille' jolted us awake at 5:00 AM. I have GOT to talk to Gina about her warped way of waking us up! Although, I do have to admit, it was effective -- there's no way we could have slept through that alarm. She turned the noise off, and I turned over to kiss her good morning. Smiling, she said, "Yahoo, darlin', we're goin' home!" The wedding, and seeing my hometown again was great, but I'm just as ready as Gina is to get the hell out of here. While we lay there stretching, my phone buzzed with a message from Momma, saying they had just woken up and would meet us down in the café after they showered and dressed. We got up to pee, brushed our teeth, and got in the shower ourselves. After the shivers that ran through us with the small orgasms brought on by the razor, we scrubbed each other clean. We got dressed, tousling ou...

Harshika woke up and looked at the clock. It was almost 5pm on a saturday evening. She had promised her landlord, Anand uncle, to help understand his newly installed computer. According to the boomer generation, you are only fit to be called as a computer engineer if you help them fix their issues which mostly involve turning it off and on. She knew how punctual the former military man was so she just went in her nightie. "Harshika!" Anand said, opening the door before she could go back home and change. "I am so glad you could make it." "I am happy to help," she said, following him inside. "Would you like a bite to eat?" he asked, gesturing to the kitchen. "Lakshmi has gone to the temple and would return only late evening" "Thank you for the offer, uncle, but I ate before I came." she lied. Anand led her to what he had dubbed his computer room. Harshika recognized the room as the one that used to belong to his son and there ...

***Author's Note*** This story is a companion piece to my earlier story "1969: Ghost Before the Dawn" and a companion piece to any stories in the "1969" series, and related series. You don't have to read those to understand this story. They are all meant to make sense individually, as well as together. * * * * * It was a cold afternoon in late February of 1969. Twenty-one-year-old Ginger — a black-haired copper-skinned woman with a tall, hourglass frame — was sprawled over the small bed. The mattress had a few broken springs and had been stuffed with newspaper and taped up. When she was a kid, it was a game of sorts, pretending she and her brother were robbers hiding expensive paintings or prisoners with contraband, biding their time before they could escape. It really used to be fun. Used to. Her mother was working. Her brother and his fiancée were searching for houses and walking their dog along the way. Ginger was alone in the little East Harlem apartme...