Where are you my Master?
The one who will put me in a corner
Where are you my Lord?
The one who will make me wear a collar and leash to train me
Where are you my Master?
Who will leave on my skin red marks in a shape of your hand?
Where are you my owner?
Where are you, who will treat me like his property
I am dying to find you to be your pet and your puppy
I have no will, no desires but your desires, I have no taste in clothes,
so you will have to choose and throw me clothes to cover my shame
I live to serve you
I exist to please you

This week's image is of a pretty brunette in her figure hugging red dress and heels.

Original © remains with model/photographer

If this is your image and you object to it being here, please let me know and I will remove it promptly. However, I'd be delighted if you would allow it to remain here and I'd love to link to your current site.

This week's Damsel in Distress is of a female in her black pvc trouser suit, complete with hood, with steel collar, wrist and ankle bands on a steel cross.

Original © remains with model/photographer
If this is your image and you object to it being here, please let me know and I will remove it promptly.
However, I'd be delighted if you would allow it to remain here and I'd love to link to your current site.

I have been a member, then an Administrator, of Transgender Pulse Support Forums for many years. Now, in May 2020, I have been asked to become the owner of the forums and the actual site.

If you are Transgender, a Crossdresser, Lesbian or Gay, and need support, then please consider visiting and joining Transgenderpulse. It is a safe place for those needing support. There are also chat rooms for those needing more immediate support.

Barry was bored, he was on a sales trip for his firm and had ended up at a motel in the ass end of nowhere's Ville, the winter snow had set in and he was stuck in this dump of a town until the snow ploughs could get through the drifts cutting the town off from the rest of the state.

At least the snow had stopped falling long enough for him to get out of the motel and look round the town to see if there were any shops that he could get something to relieve the boredom, and perhaps play a little bondage to pass the time away.

He went up and down the single shopping street of the hick town and was

Steve was a prolific burglar whom the local police knew about but had never managed to catch in the act or prove his criminality was the bane of the town. Things were about to change!

Steve had been watching the old guy for a few days now and had worked out when the house would be empty and today was the day when he would see what the old guy had stored away worth nicking to sell to feed his drug habit. Regular as clockwork the old feller went off for his morning walk so Steve slipped around the back of the house and soon had the patio door off it's tracks and he was in the house.

Steve was

Monica Loses Her Memory. (A Touched by an Angel fanfic).

I do not claim Monica, Andrew or Tess as my characters, I'm just borrowing them and receive no income from doing so. All copyrights are freely acknowledged and respected.

"Miss Wings, the Father has an assignment for you." Stated Tess, a large elderly black woman with silver highlights in her mainly black hair.

"Oh Tess, what is it, do you know who needs our help?" Monica said, quite excitedly with a lovely Irish lilt in her voice.

I have been in touch with the owner of Damsels In Peril website and he has let me have some custom content for here. Check it out here. One great thing about the Damsels In Peril site is that even the free images are of a good size and high quality.