Message-ID: <43927asstr$1060949406@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <genericjoe@offthebeatenpath.org> Mime-Version: 1.0 From: genericjoe@offthebeatenpath.org X-Original-Message-ID: <20030815034808.7C5AF3FB28@sarahbellum.offthebeatenpath.org> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-MIME-Autoconverted: from quoted-printable to 8bit by sara.asstr-mirror.org id h7F3iDYN017679 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 14 Aug 2003 23:48:02 -0400 Subject: {ASSM} GenericJoe's Images : 0040 (MF BDSM Mdom) Date: Fri, 15 Aug 2003 08:10:06 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2003/43927> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, IceAltar Images by GenericJoe <genericjoe@offthebeatenpath.org> In deference to short pieces, to Suki's images from when I was first finding my bdsm-self, I am going to work on a series of images, most of which will have a bdsm theme of some kind or another, all short. At least three a week (but I'd love to do them daily.) As they are posted, the images will be archived at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/genericjoe/www/images/ 0040 (MF BDSM Mdom) She stood next to her bed, looking through her mostly packed suitcase. Had she brought everything she needed, everything she had to have? Her clothes, mostly dresses because that was what he preferred, were folded on top. Enough for the whole trip, both casual and evening wear. Underclothes were rolled to the side, most picked for their erotic value. There were night clothes, vague and diaphonous, alluring and suggestive. Things she knew he would like. But he had told her to bring everything she had to have, and nothing else. But she had no idea what he would want her to wear, right? She had to pack this way. Her toothbrush and shampoos, soaps and perfumes and makeup were in a small bag, stuffed into the larger one, along with a hair curler and some barrettes. She added a few other items, just in case: ibuprofen -- the wonder drug, tampons -- even though it wasn't close to her period, and aspirin for what the ibuprofen wouldn't take care of. Lube and condoms were next, of course. Then her favorite toys, including one she hadn't yet used, had bought specifically for him to use on her. Shoes to match the dresses. Pantyhose, and stockings, enough for him to pick and choose her wardrobe. Did she need all of this? Her subconscious nagged at her. But of course she did, she thought, this was what she packed to travel, what she needed to have. She had to be ready for him, no matter what he would ask, right? She went through her wallet: passport, driver's license, cash for taxi and incidentals on the way and back, credit cards for everything else. Her plane ticket. Was there anything she was forgetting? Oh! Jewelry! She went over to her counter, and pulled out her jewelry case, going through it, picking the finest stuff, the things that accented her nice dresses, the gold chain her mother had given her. But then, she had her collar, right? She looked at herself in the mirror, auburn hair cascading down her back, styled in waves around her head. The thin black choker around her neck reminded her of him. She wore a dress, black, cinched at her waist, buttons down the front, slit to her upper thigh. She imagined him taking it off of her, and shook her head. What was she doing? What did she really need in his presence? The collar, her submission, that was all. The clothes to get her to the airport and from it. The passport, as complete identification; the cash for the taxi. That was all, nothing more. She grabbed the passport, and slid the forty bucks inside it. She took off her earrings, watch, rings, everything but the collar. Smiling to herself she stepped out of the house, to wait for the taxi. Pausing in the doorway, she stepped back inside. She removed her bra and panties and threw them on the bed next to the suitcases. The taxi honked, and she left to visit her master. (C) GenericJoe, 2003 http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/genericjoe/www/images/image0040.html -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+