Plus, if you comment telling myself and other commenters why you write, that means we can click your name at the top of the comment and see how that passion translates into your stories. I for one would love to see passionate writers from this website teens telling me why they love to write, and right after I’m done reading their personal oriental view of writing, I can jump right into reading their work. I genuinely love when people have passion for their craft and erotica is no exception, and I can see a lot of passionate people working away just by looking around here. I hope this essay will only contribute in positive ways towards the passion and overall community of this website. Feel free to disagree with my opinions all you want of course - the main purpose of this essay, as with every essay I do, is to make you think and start a conversation. So, now that you know at least a little more about yourself as an erotica writer, hop to it and keep writing. I know I and many others will be looking forward to your future stories. Note 1: I’m not a professional writer. All comment are welcome the bad, good and the ugly Note 2: If you don’t like humiliation, pain and the Dom/sub master/slave role then exit now and don’t read this story Note 3: My first story I wrote was how my daughter became my slave. Note 4: I welcome questions just message me the question and I will answer all the message by posting them or pm you How my neighbor became my submissive sex slave I walk in my house just asian got home from work. I heard my wife and my neighbor in the kitchen, so I walk in the kitchen hi honey I said. My wife ask me if I was going to say hi to our neighbor Ms. Kathy. Hey Kathy I said as I was grabbing a beer form the refrigerator, as I was walking japanese out of the kitchen my wife said that they had something to ask me. I told them I will be right back going to change out of my work cloths. As I was walking to the master bedroom and taking a drink of my beer I was thinking to myself what do them what to ask me. Once I got done change into jeans and a t-shirt I walk back to the kitchen where my wife and neighbor was still seating at the table when I walk in the kitchen I saw my wife opening other wine. I ask my wife what they wanted to talk to me about I said this as I was seating at the table, as my wife was pouring other glass of wine for Ms. Kathy and herself she ask me if I can build a garage for our neighbor like I build one for our house I used to be working for an construction company before I got the job that I’m at now. I said I would build her a garage and I will be over to her house tomorrow which was a Saturday to go over what garage she would like me to build for her. We all seat at the table, drinking and talking it was getting late so Kathy left our house and went back to her house. She blushes as she feels his tongue slides into her mouth, and she start to suck it willingly. “OH! “Oh, I asian dunno… why don’t we play truth or dare? It’s like walking barefoot across a lawn.” "Now you better work your tongue, ass, and pussy oriental hard this time or we will bring out some more fun things for you to entertain us with." Modern society’s not real accepting of multiple wives, and well, weird stuff that’s kinda like incest?” Sliding in and out harder and faster building in pace. John on the other hand, was freaking out. NOOOOOOOOO!' then I looked down at my Mother's superfit unconscious form. It was never ending. He teens watched her, mesmerized with her sexuality as her hips swayed walking down the stairs leading up to the golden seat. I'm going to japanese hide in the boys' dormitory and you've got to find me. Until you do I get to fuck every boy I find. “The golden one.” Some of it got in her eyes, which was new - no one had ever pissed in her eyes before - but she refused to close them as she was supposed to encourage his sexual attention, and surely closing her eyes would be rejecting the gift he was offering them? My juices gushed out, bathing his hand. “You always will be. His name was Mr. Salvador, a Spanish-born man who allegedly went to theater school in Paris of all places. She refused; a momentary flash of frustration flashed over the telepathic link. Sally continued, “You have always thrived on taking risks, even getting caught, but you can't do that with him, not like this. He'd strategically gathered them this run-through; even though doing so had forced them, as well as himself into an efficient, but frustrating, (slightly unpredictable,) path. “So, surely that’s when he—”