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It has been a while since I’ve detailed any of the experiences that my wife Stella has been a apart of, but rest assured that does NOT mean that things have not been going on! To the contrary. I suppose that one reason I have taken some time off from writing about her experiences is because I am not sure that the stories are being read and enjoyed. What I have hoped for was that a number of men and women who read and enjoyed these stories would share some of their personal experiences and even their personal fantasies with me, and in doing that not only would I come to know my readers, but perhaps some of you could contribute ideas on things that would be done to Stella. This may or may not be the last of my stories, so really the rest is up to you, the readers. To answer a few FAQs: (1) yes, Stella is real; (2) yes, these things that I write about are true: and (3) yes, we have this kind of fun periodically, and we also enjoy a lot of time alone together. Write to me care of the editors and share your experiences and fantasies, and at he same time describe yourself to me too.

Just before the holidays I got a call from an old friend of ours, Hans, who is a major player in the business world. He was putting together a special get together and end of the year party for some very powerful Asian businessmen. The party was missing something he told me, and that was some special entertainment! He wanted Stella to join them at this weekend party that he was hosting on a small island in the Caribbean. She was excited and nervous, but the plans were made, and she was picked up on a Thursday evening by a limo that drove her to a private airport where she joined Hans for a flight on the corporate jet to this island. He would not give her any of the details of who was going to be there or what was going to be done, but he did have the limo driver hand me an envelope that contained full details just so I could follow along and he also assured me that she would call and someone would e-mail me often to keep me in the loop real time with all that was going on.

Thursday when they arrived very few people were at the compound, and Stella basically unpacked her clothes in a luxurious room and headed off to the dining room where dinner was served by a staff of Thai waiters and waitresses. After dinner, drinks were served and Stella was given a tour of the place, showing her where the pool with a waterfalls was, where the hot tub was located, and also where the theater was. The theater was locked and at least for now, off limits to her eyes. The surroundings were lush, and the climate was hot and humid. She wore a simple sundress that was very short, the panties that she sore were a simple mesh thong, and the only other thing she had on were sandals with a heel. As she toured she noticed the Thai staff all looking her over and smiling, several talking at low tones in their native language. As she got ready to call it a night, she was told that two of the servants were assigned to her and would be doing anything and everything that was needed, she met the two Thai servants, both female, and they both looked as though they could not be more than 18. They escorted her to her room, and guided her to the oversized bathroom where they helped undress her and then they used a device that misted her entire body with a fragrant spray. A cool mist that felt good, and caused her nipples to harden immediately! As the one girl misted Stella, the other used a fluffy hand mitt to massage her body, not missing an inch! As they finished the misting treatment, they had her sit in a barber’s type chairs and they proceeded to lather her pussy with a rose scented soap and the one trimmed most of what little hair she had into a small triangle, while the other gave her a pedicure. With that done, they both had her stand and they picked up what looked like feather dusters and dusted her with a lightly scented powder, from her neck to her feet. She was brought to her bed and tucked in. A small fountain/waterfalls in the room lulled her to sleep in no time. Read the rest of this entry »

“This is really scary,” she said in an obvious nervous tone, but her husband reassured her with, “We’ll just see what happens and we don’t have to do anything, but you know it’s going to be exciting as hell.” This was their first time playing outside their 18 year marriage and she was a virgin when they met. Over the years he’d told her how he wanted her to have sex with another man, a black man. Not just a black man, but a big, hung, muscular, sexually aggressive, dominant black man. They’d been wondering, fantasizing and chatting about the slut wife, cuckold husband, interracial sex experience for years. Now they were driving to the upscale hotel to get a room where their dark dream already has a room. They found him through the local swing club and from hot emails, instant messaging and web cam meetings they believe he’s the dominant black bull of their dreams. The last e-mail he sent to them included specific instructions on everything he wanted, in fact, demanded of them leading up to their meeting.

They got to the room and shortly after arriving, while they were putting their cloths away for the weekend, there was a knock on the door. She looked at her husband with wide eyes and ran into the bathroom. He answered the door and it was the bellboy, who had delivered a picture cell phone with a note that read, “Turn me on sluts.” He went to the door and told her it was safe to come out. “It was the bellboy.” She came out and they both started to laugh. He handed her the note and phone and she obediently turned it on. It was the first major step she’d ever taken and her heart raced when she heard the beep of the power button. Her husband poured two drinks and they began to relax, she ran around the room like a teenager collecting the shampoos and soaps, like she always did, but her husband’s mind was racing and heart pounding, as he thought to himself, “I can’t believe this is finally happening. Fuck, I hope it happens.” He got horny thinking about it, walked up behind her and unhooked her bra, as she sipped her wine. “Ohhhhhh, I thought you weren’t supposed to do this,” referencing the black bull’s final instruction. “I can do this,” as he felt her tits from behind and rolled her hardening nipples between her fingers, “I just can’t make you cum or fuck you.” She moaned in a pleasing way as he turned her around, roughly pulled her top up and started squeezing her tits together, sucking them and saying, “Is this what your bull’s gonna do?” She was getting noticeably hot and softly, coyly said, “MMMMMMMMmmmmmm I don’t know. Do you want to find out?”

She was testing him, again, like always. Stepping back from it all, basically making it all his idea, so she could remain the pure little wife. “Feel my cock and tell me if I want to find out.” She reached down and felt his extremely hard cock, “MMMmmmmmmm I guess you do.” He had her unzipped and stepping out of her jeans and with pulses racing. He pushed her back on the bed and started to lick her very well shaved, wet pussy, “This is what your bull is gonna do to this pussy.” “MMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmm you think so ” RING! The sound almost seemed defining, she tried to get up, but her husband held her down, continued to lick her soaking wet pussy and whispered, “Answer it.” She pushed “talk” and said, “Hello.”

“Is this my white slut?” “Yes.” “I’m sitting here with a hard fucking cock thinking about you. Where’s Cuckold Bitch.” “He’s here.” “Are you going to wear what I told you in the email?” She responded trying not to let on that she was grinding her pussy into Cuckold Bitch’s face, “Yes if you want that.” He said, “Oh fuck yeah I want that. Listen, you have a massage appointment downstairs in a half hour. Don’t worry about showering or anything, a friend of mine is going to take total care of you down stairs and you’ll love her. Just do not forget this phone and when you go, send Cuckold Bitch to my room down the hall #218. OK slut.” “OK.” Read the rest of this entry »

The knock on the hotel door seemed innocuous enough, neither of the occupants of the room had any reason to suspect that it could be anything other than room service.

Bill and Anne had traveled overnight, catching the red eye from Fort Lauderdale to arrive at London Heathrow early in the morning. They had slept for an hour or two, trying to adjust to the six hour delay from continent to continent.

Their two weeks doing Europe started in earnest, tomorrow, with a scheduled bus ride around the ‘Old Town’ of London, taking in Buckingham Palace, Westminster Cathedral and the new to the programme, Princess Diane’s Garden in Hyde Park. For the next few days, England, or at least the bit that really mattered, would be visited, snapped and filed away for winter nights in front of the video player, then to be digested in manageable chunks.

Bill roused himself from the comfort of the couch with an effort, grunting at the sudden and unexpected intrusion to their leisure time. He didn’t remember ordering anything to eat, but these crazy British had some funny ideas about hospitality, perhaps it was teatime for the Limeys.

He disregarded the eyepiece in the centre of the door, electing instead, to grasp the brass handle, open it and see who had the balls to disturb him at this ungodly hour.

The first Anne knew that there was something wrong was as Bill barrelled backwards through the door to the antechamber, arms flailing in cartwheel fashion, into the living accommodation they were sharing. His shoe heel caught the edge of the Wilton centre rug and all one hundred and eighty pounds of him fell flat on his back.

Five people dressed in dark blue coveralls with balaclava ski masks over their heads, closely followed him. Only their eyes and mouth were visible. Anne began to scream, promising to go through several octaves until she hit top ‘C’. A sharp slap to her face from the nearest of the strangers stopped the mounting crescendo in mid-climb. She stood, in the middle of a floor rug, her arms akimbo, her mouth a perfect ‘O’ of surprise. Anne had never been hit before. Although the blow to her face was not really painful, the shock to her system was enough.

A knife appeared from the depths of one of the coveralls and was thrust against Bill’s windpipe. “Move and he dies.” The point pricked his skin, drawing a bead of blood to emphasise the point.

The five intruders were well versed in what they were about; moving in confident and practiced, perhaps even well rehearsed choreographic manoeuvres. Four detached from the phalanx that had pushed Bill backwards, circling the prone and gasping figure of her husband at compass points of north east and west, south east and west, just where his limbs happened to be. They each grabbed an arm or leg and picked him up, ignoring his feeble struggles to carry him to the giant centrered low-level, marble topped table. The fifth member of the group had produced from a pocket of his coveralls, four short pieces of white rope. Bill was bound fast at wrist and ankle to the coffee table with a material gag tied around the back of his neck. Bizarrely, the four then picked up the table with its burden and stood it on end against the wall. In effect, Bill was standing, but tied securely in a classic spread-eagle position.

The whole operation had taken a very short space of time; too fast to really appreciate just what had happened. Ann stood stock still, arms hanging limp at her sides, too confused to assimilate the events unfolding in front of her until, in unison, the five grabbed her and forced her to the floor.

Four of the assailants gripped her wrists, ankles and pinned her to the floor as if crucified while the fifth fumbled with the zipper of their suit. His cock emerged, flaccid, but large enough. Anne’s eyes bugged while her mouth opened to emit another ear shattering scream. It was a mistake; a steady golden stream of piss hit her full in the face, filling her mouth until she managed to spit it out and turn her face away. The stream continued while her aggressor laughed, hitting her ear and soaking her hair. Anne struggled and tried to articulate, but only managed to get more of his piss on her tongue and feel the strength of those who were holding her down.

At last, his bladder vented, he knelt astride her body, knees either side of her, his cock still hanging out of the blue suit. She turned to stare defiantly at him, then, wished she hadn’t. His tongue stuck out of the mouth hole of the balaclava, it seemed more obscene than his cock had. But, that wasn’t the problem. A hunting knife had been brought out of a hidden sheath. To Anne it looked huge, big enough to go all the way through her and out the other side. The attacker on her right, lifted Anne’s head enough so that she could see between her breasts, what was to happen next.

Sit sitting on her, he lifted the fabric a slid the wickedly sharp blade under her blouse, the cold of the steel touched her skin; she shivered at the touch and pleaded for her life. As if from a long way away, she heard Bill offering money, anything they had, if they would leave now. He was ignored. Anne was frightened stiff, her mouth clamped shut.

Slowly, the blade slid up her torso, from her stomach. The blouse parted easily, the cloth separated like butter at the touch of a hot knife. Gradually; inch by inch, he slit the garment open until it lay in rags, either side of her, exposing her white cotton bra and freckled skin. She had goose bumps, a throw back to a primeval response to danger. His tongue had stayed out all the time, slate grey eyes creased in obvious enjoyment, stared out from the eye holes of his hood. He slipped the point of the knife under the joint between the cups of her bra, the serrated back edge scraping the delicate skin between her breasts. Anne held her breath, frightened that he would stab her accidentally with the movement of her chest.

With a deft flick of his wrist, the blade cut through the thin material, her breasts sprang apart, no longer held in place. He pulled the strap up where it disappeared over her shoulder; he cut it and did the same to the other strap and threw away the useless bra, then studied her exposed tits. He licked his lips as he prodded the soft tissue of her aureole with the tip of the knife; he laughed as she gasped in total fright. The point seemed to be cutting into her, slicing as if taking off her nipple. He hadn’t pierced her skin, but the threat and implication was more than enough to sharpen her mind to the predicament she was in.

His cock was still out from his coveralls, lying on her naked stomach. Looking at it over her nose, Anne saw a drip of his piss leave the slit to fall on her skin. He noticed her staring and growled at her; do you want it cunt? She shook her head, too frightened to answer him.

Bill yelled at her to let them do anything they wanted. Again, he was ignored.

“Put her on the sofa.” He ordered. The obvious leader got up from sitting on her, his cock swinging loosely to allow his colleagues to lift her up and sit her on the settee, feet on the floor and her ass on the seat. One of them stepped behind her and grabbed her hands to lift them over the back of the leather back and hold them in a vice like grip. The position lifted her tits. Another held her ankles together, stretching her on the edge of the sofa. Read the rest of this entry »

“This is really scary,” she said in an obvious nervous tone, but her husband reassured her with, “We’ll just see what happens and we don’t have to do anything, but you know it’s going to be exciting as hell.” This was their first time playing outside their 18 year marriage and she was a virgin when they met. Over the years he’d told her how he wanted her to have sex with another man, a black man. Not just a black man, but a big, hung, muscular, sexually aggressive, dominant black man. They’d been wondering, fantasizing and chatting about the slut wife, cuckold husband, interracial sex experience for years. Now they were driving to the upscale hotel to get a room where their dark dream already has a room. They found him through the local swing club and from hot emails, instant messaging and web cam meetings they believe he’s the dominant black bull of their dreams. The last e-mail he sent to them included specific instructions on everything he wanted, in fact, demanded of them leading up to their meeting.

They got to the room and shortly after arriving, while they were putting their cloths away for the weekend, there was a knock on the door. She looked at her husband with wide eyes and ran into the bathroom. He answered the door and it was the bellboy, who had delivered a picture cell phone with a note that read, “Turn me on sluts.” He went to the door and told her it was safe to come out. “It was the bellboy.” She came out and they both started to laugh. He handed her the note and phone and she obediently turned it on. It was the first major step she’d ever taken and her heart raced when she heard the beep of the power button. Her husband poured two drinks and they began to relax, she ran around the room like a teenager collecting the shampoos and soaps, like she always did, but her husband’s mind was racing and heart pounding, as he thought to himself, “I can’t believe this is finally happening. Fuck, I hope it happens.” He got horny thinking about it, walked up behind her and unhooked her bra, as she sipped her wine. “Ohhhhhh, I thought you weren’t supposed to do this,” referencing the black bull’s final instruction. “I can do this,” as he felt her tits from behind and rolled her hardening nipples between her fingers, “I just can’t make you cum or fuck you.” She moaned in a pleasing way as he turned her around, roughly pulled her top up and started squeezing her tits together, sucking them and saying, “Is this what your bull’s gonna do?” She was getting noticeably hot and softly, coyly said, “MMMMMMMMmmmmmm I don’t know. Do you want to find out?”

She was testing him, again, like always. Stepping back from it all, basically making it all his idea, so she could remain the pure little wife. “Feel my cock and tell me if I want to find out.” She reached down and felt his extremely hard cock, “MMMmmmmmmm I guess you do.” He had her unzipped and stepping out of her jeans and with pulses racing. He pushed her back on the bed and started to lick her very well shaved, wet pussy, “This is what your bull is gonna do to this pussy.” “MMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmm you think so ” RING! The sound almost seemed defining, she tried to get up, but her husband held her down, continued to lick her soaking wet pussy and whispered, “Answer it.” She pushed “talk” and said, “Hello.” Read the rest of this entry »

I was out looking for a woman to kidnap and make my sex slave and I decided to stop at a popular fast food place for a burger and fries. It was close to midnight and only the drive-thru was open. When I pulled up to the window to pay I was greeted by one of the most beautiful young women I have ever seen. I knew instantly I had to have her somehow. She is 24, has blond hair that is wavy and comes down to her shoulders, has sparkling blue eyes, stands 5′ 8″, weighs 125 lbs., has 34B tits that are just large enough to be a mouthful, firm, tight ass (slowly becoming looser thanks to being fucked and plugged by yours truely), and a very tasty and tight pussy.

Since I was looking for someone to kidnap I had my kidnap kit with me. The kit is equipped with 2 handcuffs, 2 anklecuffs (in case of a double kidnapping), a roll of 2 inch wide duct tape, 2 leather blindfolds, a ballgag, a penis gag, 4 scarves, a few lengths of rope, a steak knife, some plastic zip-ties, and a stun gun.

The goddess who was working the drive-thru, (her name is Kayla), asked me to pull to a parking spot in the parking lot and she would bring my food to me in a couple minutes (how little did she know how right she was!). The parking lot was dimly lit and I decided to take a chance and kidnap Kayla when she brought my food to me if there were no other people around. I did a quick scan of the area when I saw Kayla come out of the building and approach my car, picked up my stun gun, and got ready for the attack. When she got to the driver’s side door I open it up, jumped out and zapped her with the stun gun. She went down like a sack of potatoes. I grabbed her, opened the back door and tossed her in. I picked up the bag of food and got back in my car and quickly drove away.
Read the rest of this entry »