Masturbation Monday: Good things come to girls who brat

Philip had just announced that Jayavardini was about to be spanked. 

She nodded, almost impatiently. “Of course. And then we’re going to fuck, yes?”

“So it seems. I mean, utterly yes, I’m going to fuck you. And we’re not leaving Chetana out. Now, Chetana, I think you should lean back against the headboard now.” Chetana touched his cock, a fleeting, affectionate gesture like touching the nose of a bronze boar for luck, and obeyed. “Lovely. Comfortable girl, like a queen. But with your legs well apart, and your ass thrust forward a little… More. I said forward. Good girl.”

Chetana said to Jayavardhini, “Told you so.” She meant she’d said that Philip was bossy once he was sure that would be welcome. Jayavardhini wondered about Philip and his wife, what they’d been like together. She felt they’d been happy. She’d never even seen a picture of the woman. 

She leaned down and kissed the inside of Chetana’s right knee. Then wriggled to kiss the inside of her thigh. Chetana put her hand in her hair and stroked the back of her head. She kissed Chetana’s thigh, smooth, intimate skin, more passionately. And she was caught, as she expected, by Philip, stronger than so small a man should be, and pulled over his lap.

“The famous spanking position,” she said. And wiggled her ass at him. He rewarded her with a smack. At least six times harder than Chetana. About right. Jayavardhini felt an absurd sense of happiness as well as sex. “Didn’t hurt! You can’t spank for…” What was that thing the English said? “Toffee.”

Chetana laughed. “I don’t believe this. Give her one for me!”

Philip’s hand landed. The same intensity. He wasn’t going to go easy on her, or be provoked. The impact brought an explosion of heat in her buttocks, which she felt ripple down to her cunt as sex and need. She sighed.

Philip squeezed her ass. “Any comments?”

She decided she could take a lot of that. And being a brat suddenly appealed. It was a game she hadn’t played in a long time. Good things came to brats. “Hopeless. You’re sure you’ve spanked a girl before? That was feeble. Weakest I’ve ever had.”

Masturbation Monday: The Merry Widower

Philip said, “My love.” He held Chetana, and she put her arm round his back, just under his shoulders, her other hand touching his face. Jayavardhini slid forward, between the two of them, and kissed Chetana and then Philip.

Philip kissed Chetana a kind of temporary farewell, and turned to Jayavardhini.   “We’re going to meet a lot, Jayavardhini. I mean often. Probably in this bed.”

Jayavardhini looked at him. Something sad in his tone as he said that dismayed her. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“I think it is, Jayavardhini, so long as you do. I meant, of course it is. I’m just saying to you… I’ve been mourning my wife, and I suppose I’ve had an idea that going with other women would disrespect her memory.”

Jayavardhini said, “That’s stupid!” Chetana smiled at her and nodded. 

Philip looked down. “I thought I was going to be a widower, probably the rest of my life.” Jayavardhini stroked his arm. “Then I fell in love with Chetana, though I never really thought that would have any sexual consequences.”

Chetana laughed. “I’m a consequence?’ So Philip had to whisper in her ear and make her laugh, then smack her bottom. Ah, thought Jayavardhini, who had never seen Chetana be deferential before. No wonder she can’t give a proper spanking, any more than I could. Just now, Chetana is in the same mindset as me. It was all very unexpected.

Philip turned his attention back to Jayavardhini.

“And then being in love with Chetana did have consequences. We became lovers. And… I know, or at least Chetana says –” Chetana pushed him – “All right, I know because Chetana says so, that you want me.”

Jayavardhini shook her head. “Why are all the half-way acceptable men so stupid? I kissed you, in the passage. I wouldn’t have thought you needed Chetana to tell you I want you.”

“I’m very out of practice. Though I was probably never very good at reading signals. I’m just trying to say I’m going to be unsure of my ground sometimes. So, yes, I want to fuck you as well. But I’m bad at saying this kind of thing. Until Chetana started educating me, I wouldn’t have said anything. So, I know that I want you too. I want to fuck you.”

Chetana clapped. Jayavardhini felt something givein her lower belly, a little ball of desire gathered just a little above her cunt. The words, ‘I want to fuck you’, are words of power. She said, feeling it was inadequate, “Well, good.”

Then he put his hand on her ass, which, because she was pleased the mood had lightened, and the things that needed to be said were said, she waggled for him.

Then he squeezed her ass, hard. She knew he was going to treat her very differently from Chetana, with her unexpected diffidence. He might still be shy, at this stage, but she could not doubt his enthusiasm.

“Also, I’m going to give you that second spanking you need so badly. I mean, that you need for moral and character-building reasons.” He was smiling again.

Masturbation Monday: Biting on a cardamon pod

Jayavardini and Chetana licked and rubbed and stroked and strained against each other and kissed and bit when they were in bed together. Occasionally Chetana fucked her with a strap-on, but Jayavardhini enjoyed that much more enthusiastically than Chetana did, so it didn’t happen often enough.

Chetana said, “Well, no… I haven’t actually spanked her.” As if she regretted the oversight.

Jayavardhini said, “So far!”

Philip said, “Well, it’s obviously long past time.”  

Chetana leaned forward and put her hand on Jayavardhini’s bottom, and stroked her, letting her fingers touch and tap lightly along the cleft of her buttocks. She shivered deliciously, waiting.  There was a pause.

Jayavardhini, lying across the bed, held down, her head resting on Philip’s thigh’s, imagined Chetana looking at Philip, and heard Philip make an affirmative noise.

It was unusual for Chetana to wait for approval.

Jayavardhini sighed comfortably when Chetana cupped her right buttock, squeezed it fondly, and then the hand lifted. Jayavardhini stopped herself from clenching.

Then Chetana’s hand landed, slapping her and rousing her skin. A few seconds later Chetana swatted her on the left cheek. Philip kissed her forehead, and she raised her head to look at him. He was still smiling, but less benevolently. She said, “This is your doing, you savage.”

Shetried to reach him to kiss him, but he still held her down, so Chetana could easily reach her bottom. But he leaned forward to make himself available and put his hand on the back of her head. She kissed him, open-mouthed. Chetana smacked her again, right, then left.

The impacts rang out in the wooden cabin, and Jayavardhini felt each as a sort of sensual explosion, like biting on a cardamom pod. She wished Chetana would make it harder.

Philip grunted, perhaps at something he’d thought, and his tongue touched her teeth, met hers, and they explored sensations and each other, shifting the kiss from time to time to try new angles.

Chetana smacked her again, her fingers lifted back so only her palm impacted on her bottom. There was something oddly hesitant about it. Jayavardhini would have expected Chetana to do anything full-heartedly. Still, it felt good, and she let Chetana urge her on, hand lightly smacking her ass while she kissed Philip, Chetana’s lover.

After a time Philip broke their kiss, released his pressure on the small of her back, and pulled her up level on the bed with the two of them.

Chetana pulled Philip and Jayavardhini to her and embraced them both. “My loves.”

Masturbation Monday: Fairness takes two, or possibly three

Jayavardhini was pleased with the effect of her teasing, and held the sarong in front of her body, as if protecting her modesty. Chetana was barely managing not to laugh. She said, to Philip, “Jayavardhini needs a spanking. Don’t you think?”

Philip looked up at Jayavardhini. She widened her eyes again, trying to convey shocked innocence. That cock moved upwards for a second, of its own accord, then levelled at her again.

But he said, “Oh, no. I think a spanking would hardly be fair. Jayavardhini, take that ridiculous sarong right off, this instant, and come here.”

Jayavardhini thought it was a pity about the spanking but she let the sarong fall to the floor and stepped towards the bed anyway.

Philip gathered her in his arms, the first time so much of their skin had touched, and pulled her halfway onto the bed, her feet a little off the floor, her ass at the edge of the bed. She turned her face to his, and he kissed her. 

His beard was growing. It was the first time she’d kissed a bearded person in at least a couple of years.

She’d heard, in Chetana’s emails, that Philip had been notoriously unkempt, always with a few days’ scruffy facial hair, on the dock, where she’d arrived only days before departure. But on board the Jagannath, and presumably the other ships, shaving involved using drinking water if you wanted suds, and being brave enough to trust your skin with a straight razor.

Jayavardhin’s pubic hair had had two weeks’ growth since the ships had left the Kiltan Lagoon dock, so she couldn’t blame him.

She shook her head. She said, “You’re a hairy man. I guess I’ll have to get used to that.” She kissed him again, and this time he took the kiss seriously. Their lips touched, then tongues and teeth. Philip focussed his attention on her while Chetana watched them, smiling.

Eventually Jayavardhini tried to wriggle up the bed towards him, but he put his hand on the small of her back and held her in her slightly undignified position.

She gazed at him, a little puzzled. “Philip?”

But Philip was looking at Chetana. “As I was going to say, this girl needs two spankings. Just one wouldn’t be fair at all.” Jayavardhini shook indignantly, though making sure she didn’t break his grip. “Have you spanked her before?”

Masturbation Monday: The only monogamist in the room

Philip had just explained to Chetana that she was mostly responsible for the renewal of his erection. She kissed him. “Even that was enough of an admission. But it’s okay, Philip. Really it is. You were nice about it, Jayavardhini says, when it was obvious she and I had been fucking. You were very nice to me, too.”

She saw Philip smile, remembering. Then he looked serious. “But you’re my woman. She – You are wonderful, Jayavardhini. But she is not my woman.”

Philip was thinking of turning this down.

“Philip, you’re the only monogamist in this cabin. And your cock is telling me you’re not going to stay monogamous for very long, now. Jayavardhini wants you. And she wants me. And I want you. And her. And cocks don’t lie. I happen to know for a fact that you want her as well as me.”

Jayavardhini saw doubt in his eyes. He was working up to sending her away. “Philip, what Chetana said is true. About me wanting you. And I want Chetana. We could discuss this. Or we could test it. But I don’t believe you want to keep me out of this bed.”

Chetana said, “You’re right about wasting time, Jayavardhini. Come to bed.”

Jayavardhini smiled, happy. Philip had not taken his eyes off her since Chetana had given her blessing. She took the first step towards them, shaky with triumph. Philip said, “No.”

It was as if he’d hit her, the wrong kind of blow. “Philip? Why?”

Then she saw his eyes, amused but also drawn. “You’re not naked. Get that sarong off and then come here.”

“You’re a bad man.”

“And you’re a bad girl.” He withdrew from Chetana very slowly and turned to watch Jayavardhini. His cock, half hard, glistened in the candlelight, wet with Chetana’s fluids.  

Jayavardhini knew a way to do _everything_ minxishly

Jayavardhini turned her back, and began to lift the sarong. She slowed its ascent as it reached her upper thighs, lifting it in microscopic degrees as she got to her ass. Behind her she heard Chetana laugh. Philip wasn’t laughing. She imagined him watching, entranced. She hoped his cock was getting harder, even though he’d just come.

No, she was confident she had that power over him.

But he was silent while she slowly raised the sarong to her waist. Then he made a throaty noise of appreciation. She said, “If you’re not hard for me when I turn round, I’m leaving.”

Chetana laughed again. Jayavardhini turned, holding the sarong just above her navel. His cock pointed fatly at her. “Oh. Well, I suppose I’ll stay, then.”

Masturbation Monday: Whose erection is it?

Jayavardhini had wanted Philip, and she’d let Chetana know it, because he was intelligent, competent and decent, and she liked men like that. She was sure they would have sex together, since he was Chetana’s primary male lover and she was her primary female lover, and there would be times when Chetana was busy with others.

But she’d expected sex with Philip to be pleasant. Considerate. Companionable. This glimpse of a side of himself he kept hidden was a surprise.

Now she imagined his teeth at her neck and her nipples, his hands slapping and gripping her. Hurting her.  Fucking Philip would actually be hot.

It was Chetana who noticed her presence first. “Jayavardhini, you’re a bad girl.”

Philip had been engrossed, gazing down at Chetana, but he looked about. He started when he saw her. He rolled partly off Chetana’s body, as if she’d caught him doing something shameful. Then he relaxed, settled back between Chetana’s thighs, and smiled at her. “Did we give you permission to watch us fuck?”

Jayavardhini widened her eyes. This was a game, and his question was the first move in it. If she looked mock-innocent and admitted guilt, then she would be fucked, by both of them.

But she suspected her arse would first be warmed and buzzing at Philip’s hands. She considered whether that was an attractive idea. Decided, she blinked her eyes, then widened them again, and said, “No, sir, I didn’t have permission.”

She thought he’d like that “sir”.

Chetana laughed. “You are such a minx, Jayavardhini. Did you know that my man is getting hard again? Already? Inside me, but it’s your doing?”

 Philip said, “Ah…” He was embarrassed. “I’m pretty sure it’s mostly you, my love.”

Masturbation Monday: Watching him, watching her

A week later Jayavardhini Mudiliar opened Chetana’s door. Inside there was a woman singing. With an orchestra. Her voice seemed to circle like a soaring eagle, higher and higher. The sound was clear, though a little scratchy. 

Oh, she thought. Philip’s wind-up gramophone. She didn’t know the music, but it was beautiful and very overtly sexual. 

Chetana was on her back on her bed, with Philip above her, pumping her, roughly in time with the pulse of the music. Chetana was making a cooing, pre-orgasmic song of her own. 

Jayavardhini’s parents would have said she should withdraw discreetly, but instead she walked in and watched them.

Chetana’s body she knew well, dark, dark black and her flesh muscular but lusciously voluptuous, while Philip, held between her thighs, was wiry and mostly white except where his arms and legs were tanned.

Philip had one hand on Chetana’s throat, constricting her, his other hand tight on her shoulder, fingers digging into her. As they plunged and rose together his face was fierce, while Chetana’s seemed abstracted.

Her body arched beneath him, hips and thighs surging upwards to meet his thrusts, greedy and hard. When Philip released her throat and slapped her face lightly, Chetana closed her eyes, her mouth open, a line of drool spilling from its edge.

She moaned, low like a big cat, a puma being fucked, then abruptly clenched, thighs and arms tight around him, her head thrown back to scream. 

Chetana’s orgasm scream was loud and uninhibited. Philip slapped her again and the scream repeated, then again a few frenzied seconds later, quieter now and dropping in pitch.

The woman singing came too, at roughly the same time as Chetana. The orchestra seemed to move in then, to caress her with infinite tenderness and then carry her gently into sleep.

Chetana was done for the moment, though Philip did not stop. Chetana stared up at him, as if he were a frightening but wonderful gift, until he gasped, both hands holding her shoulders down, hands cruelly tight, and when he came he growled at Chetana like an angry bear.

Chetana reached up and touched his face. She said, “Oh, my love.”

Jayavardhini was surprised, but she couldn’t help but smile. They were in love. She hadn’t quite understood that, though the way Chetana had spoken of him when she and her were making love had puzzled her. She hadn’t known Chetana be so moved by a man before, or, even as Chetana’s female lover she had to admit it, by a woman.

Philip was a surprise. He was so polite and diffident when he had his clothes on that she had assumed that was the real him. She’d been wrong. In intimacy the man was ferocious. And slightly cruel.

They still hadn’t noticed her, but the record had ended. She took the spindle off, and Chetana suddenly looked her way.

Masturbation Monday: Meeting Jayavardhini

Four days later, when the weather was calm and the ship was making good speed across a flat sea, Philip searched through his luggage. He had spent every night and most of the time they were both free in Chetana’s cabin, and this was the first time he’d spent in his own place. It was unfamiliar to him, and because he’d been busy while the ships were stowed, it wasn’t him who had put his belongings in the cabin.

He found the small Burberry case at the top of the wardrobe, and brought it down carefully, hoping it had been put there with the same care. 

He undid its leather straps and checked it, fearfully. Nothing seemed to be broken.

He whistled, closed it again, and took up the case. He walked the short distance down the corridor, and turned right towards Chetana’s cabin, near the Jagannath’s prow.

As he approached the door opened and a woman stepped out. Philip hadn’t seen her before. She was Tamil like Chetana, smaller, younger, with the same shock of black hair, emerald eyes and bruised purple-pink lips. She was smiling.

She saw Philip approaching, and her mouth opened, still pleased with the world. “Hello! You’re Philip! I’ve seen you, but I don’t think we’ve met.”

“I would certainly remember it.”

“So I have you at a disadvantage! From what Chetana says, that’s almost impossible. But I should abandon it.” She held out her hand.

She smelled of lemon. And something floral. And sex. “I’m Jayavardhini, Jayavardhini Mudiliar. You can call me Jaya.”

Philip frowned, then smiled back at her. “I know the name Jayavardhini. It’s a beautiful name. And auspicious. If you prefer Jaya, then I’ll follow that. But please don’t shorten your name out of politeness.”

The woman, named after a goddess of victory, laughed. “Well, then, I do prefer Jayavardhini. Thank you. Most people find it a mouthful.”

Philip had an urge to say something inane and flirtatious about her and mouthfuls. The urge surprised him. He said, “Jayavardhini. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“It’s been lovely to meet you, Philip. I’ve heard about you for so long. In Chetana’s emails. It’s like finally coming face to face with a legend.” She glanced at the case in his hand. “You’ve brought Chetana a picnic? You smuggled caviar or something else she likes on-board?”

He shook his head. “I’d love to be able to. But the rule is that food is a common resource. No private stashes.”

“I bet you made that rule.”

“I proposed it.”

She was still laughing at him. “Most people who invent rules don’t apply them to themselves. I suppose your legend is true, then. Anyway, I’m holding you up. I should go, I think.”

But she didn’t move. For a second Philip had the impression that she was going to kiss him. He knew Chetana was not a one-man woman. Nor was she a one-woman woman, probably. But he was a one-woman man. Still, he would not have minded if she had kissed him. He said, “I’ll see you.”

She said, “I should hope so! I’m a botanist, so I’ve been sorting out our plants: hydroponics and soils. It’s still a nightmare down there. You have… noidea. But it should get less frantic in about three days’ time. I’ll be more visible after that.”

He smiled at her. “Good.”

Then she did kiss him. She changed her aim at the last instant to touch her lips to his cheek, but he could not have been more astonished. Or, he supposed, charmed. Then she kissed his mouth. 

He’d been right: a kiss from her wasn’t something he would mind.

He realised he’d have been shocked, stammering in embarrassment, a week ago. Chetana’s sexual appreciation had changed him. So he grinned, only happy. “All right. I’ll look forward to you being free.”

He had the urge to ask if Chetana was all right, and alone now. But she was only a door away. So he watched the woman walk away, sarong tied under her armpits, probably all she wore.


Masturbation Monday: Emily’s second caning

So Emily had become mine. She’d once tried to get me to make her stop smoking, by taking charge, commanding her and punishing her if I smelled tobacco on her breath, her hair, or her clothes. Though one kiss will reveal that a girl has had a sneaky cigarette. I’d refused, because spanking or caning her because she had a sexy ass, and because she enjoyed submission, was one thing; presuming the right to give her orders and enforce those orders was another step, and I hadn’t been ready to take it. 

She became one of those black and white kneeling girls

So she’d done something that put herself in danger, and hurt me, and I caned her for it. A real world offence. She still had two more canings to go.

After her first caning, she’d told me that it was up to me to stop her smoking. I realised something I’d thought was a one-off event – in three instalments – was not that, in her mind. This was how she wanted to live.

So, finally, I stepped up and claimed her. We’d agreed: Emily was my property now, for me to reward or punish, and she was to do as I told her. 

We fucked again to celebrate.

When we rose, it was only three hours before Emily was due for her second caning, the one I’d promised her for lying to me.

She went to her room to work, though I doubt that she got much done. I spent the rest of the afternoon reading.

After dinner, Emily left while I cleared the table. She came back, naked, with the cane in her right hand. This time I had her bend over the table, holding on to the far edge. She was still brightly marked from yesterday’s caning, but I decided that didn’t matter. Or rather, it did matter. The fact that I was prepared to be merciless when she was already sore would make it hotter.

Even monochrome girls get the cane

I’ve described what caning Emily is like, so I’ll only say that this second time was noisier, because Emily made no effort to restrain her cries. She was lusty and loud, and she rocked, spectacularly, with the impacts, but she took her eight strokes across already marked skin, and didn’t let go of the table.

I felt sorry for her, but her punishment felt natural within the new terms of our relationship. It was amazing how fast I got used to having this right.

But underneath the rhetoric about justice and guidance I enjoyed the sight and sounds of her submission and her reactions, and Emily took her own pleasures from me. I knew she was floating in lust.

It was odd that she both enjoyed it and felt it as punishment. We were running on two emotional tracks at once. One was about punishing Emily for her behaviour and the expiation of her fault, and the other track was about her enjoyment of submission, and sex. One made her feel sorry and small, and the other made her wet and happy. Both tracks were true.  

Afterwards, in bed, I lay back so Emily could lie on her stomach, on mine. She cried onto my shoulder, eventually subsiding to snuffles. She said she was sorry, she’d been stupid, and she loved me. I held her, stroked her hair, kissed her over and over, and told her that it was done now, for tonight, and she was forgiven.

Generally, Emily dreamed in black and white

When she fell asleep I thought about her love and whether I deserved it. I decided she was in a life that excited her sexually and that committed me to keeping her from harm.

And while it hadn’t been a perfect negotiation, involving calm people, we’d both agreed to it, and the respective duties that imposed on us. So perhaps I was on reasonable moral ground.

It wasn’t about men and women or patriarchy. It was personal: she had a right to submit to me. She was one person, getting what she wanted from her lover. 

That’s where I felt that the ethics, the politics and the sex were lined up again.

I had another unsettling thought: was this why she’d fucked Marty? Had she staged a crisis to push me into taking control? It was something she’d asked for before, and  I’d refused her. So it made a kind of psychological sense. On the other hand, Emily wasn’t really devious. Our new arrangement suited her, and I’d resisted it for a long time. But she wouldn’t be that manipulative.  But… Emily slept beside me and I lay awake, wide-eyed.

Masturbation Monday: Under new management

I’d just said to Emily, “You’ll do as you’re told whether you want to or not. You obey orders, and you accept punishment when I say you deserve it. The final say is mine. That’s how we are, now.” 

She’d frowned, considering. My heart was thudding. She had every right to say no, since it was a hell of a lot to ask. Still, I’d be devastated if she did. 

But she didn’t say, Yes. She said, “Hey, Jaime?”

So now I was worried. “Yes?”

“This is totally not normal, this.”

“No. It’s perverse.”

“And I’m thinking of agreeing to it. I even think it’s hot, for god’s sake. We’re so strange. Does this feel right to you?”

“Oh absolutely. Yes. Completely right.” 

“Actually it does sort of feel right to me too. But it’s a bit scary, Jaime.”

“Well. Jump and I’ll catch you, my love.” 

“I love you too. Will you really catch me? Always?”

“Yeah, actually I will.” We were solemn together. I stroked her cunt gently, and unfairly, since I knew it interfered with her thinking, then slipped a finger into her ass. Emily sighed. She liked that.

She said, “Then. I jump. I’ll do as I’m told, from now on. I’m yours.”

“So. Emily Maria Viviani, under new management. You’ve changed hands.”

“Jaime, this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever done. It is so not normal. I’m absolutely terrified. But happy. I seem to be ridiculously happy. Well, so far.”

“I love you. I’m not scared at all,” I lied, “and I’m happy. You’re mine. And it is ridiculous.”

That the most amazing gift I have ever been given. It was considerably better than Christmas.