Gem thinks about her cunt while waiting to be leathered Part 9

[Gem is standing with her hands on her head and Jaime’s hand pressing against her cunt, with two fingers inside her. It’s far from unpleasant, but she’s also aware that she’s given Jaime more power than she’d expected. Why, for example, not take her hands down from her head? But she does as she was told. Jaime moves his hand, imperceptibly at first, then more steadily. Gem looks up at him.]

Jaime: Just keep still, Gem, while we stroke you. And stroking. And stroking. Don’t move. And stroking. Stroking Gem’s pretty little cunt. And stroking. Good. You can move now, Gem. That’s good. Ride my hand. And stroking.

Gem [smiles:] Nnnff. Ride your hand. To Banbury town.

 .                                 So what time’s the next cock horse for Banbury?

 

Jaime: Yes, I never understood what that Banbury town stuff is about. I mean, in the nursery rhyme. I know where you want to go. 

[Jaime pulls Gem a step closer, with one finger inside and his thmb and forefinger clamping her glistening lips. He kisses her. The kiss begins as affection, but quickly becomes intense, a lover’s kiss. Gem’s kisses with her eyes closed and her hands still on her head. Breath and taste are exchanged. Gem breaks the kiss, looks up questioningly.]

Gem: Should I take my hands down now?

[He admires the choice of words. If she’d said, “Can I take my hands down?” she’d be asking for permission and admitting that she needed his permission. But she’s only asked for his advice on how best to play this game.]

Jaime: Put your arms round me. Hold on to me.

[So his answer is a new command. Gem hesitates for a second and obeys, since it’s what she wants to do anyway. She hugs him, her head resting against his shoulder while his hand still strokes, two fingers inside her. Her hair is over her face and she looks at his armpit, but he can see she is frowning. He knows that frown. It’s concentration, and not unhappy. She doesn’t need him to tell her to focus on her cunt.]

Jaime: Good girl.

Gem: What did you…?

Jaime: Nothing. You’re … um …doing well.

[Gem’s hips move, cunt riding his hand, her muscles tightening, squeezing his fingers as he pleasures her. She sighs, in satisfaction. She can feel a familiar tension gathering; she is maybe a minute from coming.]

Jaime: And we stop. 

[He withdraws his fingers again.]

Gem: What! No, please Jaime, let me – . Ah don’t stop now. Jaime!

[To be continued]

Jungle journey

I’ve been asked for a picture. I’ve got one of me looking domly, dressed in black and scowling by an industrial wall. I’ll post the Dom of Darkness photo some time. But here I am in color instead, ready for the jungle.

The jacket’s made from a map of the world, useful when travelling.There’s a compass in a hidden pocket at the back. Also a whistle if I get lost. A magnifying glass. And a lighter. 

I’ve had the typhoid and yellow fever shots. I’ve got a stack of malaria pills so I can rattle if I get the shakes. I’m going to buy a mosquito net when I get there, but that’ll be more for sexual purposes. I’m packing a copy of Dawns and Departures of a Soldier’s Life by Sir Harold Paget Flashman, which, I’m told, is an invaluable guide to the jungle terrain and local manners. 

 

Sunday night jungle blues (an interruption)

Glisten. Listen.

In a few days I’m going to Kipling country. It doesn’t exist. It didn’t even exist when Kipling wrote about it. Maybe it’s Rabindranath Tagore country. I don’t care enough about Vikram Seth, say, to make it his. Anyway, I’ll be a mutineer. II’ll be demanding more pork fat and fewer bullets. I’m flying there in a few days.

When I get there I’m going to the jungle. That’s a good thing to say you’re going to do, in a story or a song, but the fact is, I’ll be going into the jungle.

I’ll hiss at the snakes like they’re Victorian stage villains. Well, that’s what they are. Jimbo the Snake and his crony Sneaky Lurkee. They’re music hall creatures. Kipling was right about that, at least.

I’ll tell the tigers to come out because I can see them. And when they stalk out from the long grass, embarrassed and a bit awkward I’ll smack them fondly, and pretend that I really could see where they were. We’ll laugh about it.

If they’re girl tigers I’ll bite the backs of their necks, force them onto the ground with their rumps high and mount them, their tails and mine tucked between their hind legs. Later we’ll stagger apart, cut, scratched and bitten. They can fix all their wounds with a roll in the dust to stop the bleeding. It’ll take an infirmary for me.

I’ll be teaching the monkeys a new dance. One I learned from bonobos. It won’t be a sexual dance; monkeys are too young for that. Millions of years too young.

But the monkeys can wear those big fruits that they call tchinas on their heads. Tchinas are the shape and size of footballs; the skin is yellow and black and the flesh is pink and tastes a bit like banana.When they’ve pushed the tchina skins down over their eyes so they can’t see, the monkeys and me will hold hands, and circle and kick until we all fall over. Then we’ll eat the tchinas.

There’s a woman there waiting, with eyes like swamps, brown, variegated and limpidly liquid. I’m going to show her my heart, my arms, my cock, and then the ceiling fan of some hotel room. And then the floor. And afterwards she can watch the darkness from inside of the crook of my arm, when we’re exhausted.

In the morning then we’ll go crashing through the jungle, in a houda but no purdah (no veils at all for my girl, though she’ll want them), but only if the elephant is wild and he wants to wander about with us on his back. We’ll have to negotiate with him. Promising to pelt the monkeys with elephant shit while we’re on his back is worth half the fare, because elephants have a very coarse sense of humour. But you also need to decorate their foreheads with lotuses and crocuses. You might not expect elephants to be so vain, but they’re famous for it.

So I’m flying soon. I’m packing a riding crop and no underpants. I’m torn about taking a pith helmet, but I don’t want to look like a tourist.

Gem thinks about her cunt while waiting to be leathered Part 8

Gem: God fuck. That’s not fair… Fuck.

Jaime: Now, don’t move. And remember you still want to focus all your attention on your cunt.

[He places his hand back against her cunt, palm still flat against soft lips. His touch is ambiguous. Its pressure comforts her, but it might also bring a warning, that if she moved there could be another smack. Perhaps even a real smack this time. If Jaime spoke any threat out loud, or made any move that threatened a real smack, Gem would rebel and the spell would be broken. She can only accept the hint of his power over her, and her possible acceptance of his punishment, if it remains unspoken. And not acted upon. Still, so long as the warning is not spoken, it is there. And Gem, after that trembling gasp, holds herself still. She is being obedient.]

Jaime: ’Kay, that’s good. So good.

Gemma's got a squeezebox...

[As her reward he curls his fingers under her, clasps and strokes her. Gem gazes at his eyes as he pushes his fingers, not gently, inside her. She is slickly wet, and warm, for him. He squeezes, hard, the spongy wetness between his fingertips and the ball of his thumb. Gem takes a breathe and holds it.]

Jaime: Does that hurt, Gem?

Gem: No. Yes! No. It’s not…

[She does not finish her thought. But, Jaime thinks, if she were not so aroused, that would hurt just a little bit. Not much, but enough to show her that she does know how to turn pain into sex. He smiles and squeezes her harder. She does not smile, though her mouth is a little open. He holds her hard in that slippery grip, hurting her and not hurting her, while she watches his eyes. Her hands are still on her head, like a chapel roof.]

Gem: Please. Please?

[To be continued]

Gem thinks about her cunt while waiting to be leathered Part 7

[Gem is in a hotel room, having had a week with Jaime. At the last moment, she asked him about bdsm. He started to explain, then decided to take a different tack. Now read on.]

Gem: [no hesitation] Yes, of course I’ll trust you.

Jaime: All right. I’ll try and show you something. What I’m about to say, these are requests, okay? Not commands. I just want to show you something. So, can you put your feet apart, please?

[Gem looks at Jaime suspiciously, but she shuffles her feet a shortish distance apart. Jaime manages not to say, “good girl”.]

Jaime: That’s good, thanks.

[He cups his hand on Gem’s cunt, with the ball of his thumb pressed against her and his fingers stroking, slowly, underneath. He finds wetness, easily. Gem takes a breath and slides her left foot a little further.]

Jaime: Lovely, you. Now I want you to think about your cunt. Just focus all your attention on your cunt. Just your cunt. Now with one finger inside.

[Gem’s eyes widen and she straightens a little.]

Jaime: Now with none. Now with two fingers inside you, stroking. And stroking. And stroking. And now with none.

[Gem makes a small sound asJaime removes his slippery fingers. Jaime talks gently while he slips his fingers into her and then withdraws them, over and over. Gem has closed her eyes, and her lips move as though she is murmuring something, but he doesn’t know what.]

Jaime: That’s good. [He withdraws his fingers.] Now, I want you to put your hands away, now, so you won’t accidentally interrupt. Okay? That’s good. [He slips two fingers inside, and notes the answering movement from her. She wants to ride his hand. He presses back, and her hips start to rock a little]

Jaime: Now, if you were a submissive woman, I’d tell you to put your hands on your head. The idea would be to make you feel a bit small. Powerless. And to remind you of being little. Like a child. But that’s not the point here. I just want your hands out of the way. So probably the best thing is for you to put them on your head. Or clasp them behind your neck. Whichever you prefer, really.

[Gem glances at Jaime, to show she has an idea of what he is up to, but she brings her hands up – Jaime’s fingers still inside her, stroking and being squeezed – and clasps them on her head. The position lifts her breasts, and with them Jaime’s spirits. Regardless of what Jaime might say, the position looks, and no doubt feels, submissive.]

Jaime: Good. You’re doing well. Now stay focused on your cunt, just your cunt. On how it feels with my fingers inside.

Gem: Uh.

Jaime: And with them gone.

Gem: Oh.

[Jaime takes a step back, indicating that Gem’s cunt will stay empty for a while. She wants those fingers back. Her eyes are closed and her mouth pursed. Yearning. She is very turned on and, it may soon occur to her, not in her own control.] 

Jaime: You have to wait, Gem.

Gem: Bastard.

Jaime: No, don’t talk. It’s distracting. Just think about your little cunt. Think about how my fingers felt in you, and how you feel now they’re not there. Just a girl wanting your cunt stroked. Wanting, Gem love.

Gem: Jaime. Please.

Jaime: Would you like me to put my fingers in you?

Gem: Yes please.

Jaime: Would you like my cock?

Gem: You fucking well are a bastard.

Jaime: Just think about your sweet little cunt, darling. Wanting little cunt.

[He leans forward and kisses her. And he presses his hand against her. But he doesn’t stroke her, or enter, just leaves his hand firmly against her until she moves, trying to rub herself against him.]

Gem: You’re the cunt. C’mon, Jaime, please.

[Jaime lifts his hand and, still with his palm flat, and with the gentlest and slowest of movements, smacks the soft lips of her cunt. There is no possibility of hurt, but he wants Gem to understand that a man has just smacked her cunt. He gives her time to think about her reaction to having a man smack her cunt. Gem gasps, and she sucks in her stomach. But she does not move. He presses his hand firmly against her trembling lower belly, then takes it away.]

Jaime: Sweet love. And you’re blushing.

[What Gem does, after a man has smacked her cunt, is stand with her legs parted and her hands on her head, so her cunt is still entirely accessible to that man. Vulnerable. Her face, prettily pink when Jaime accused her of blushing, is now a bright red.]

[To be continued]

Gem thinks about her cunt while waiting to be leathered Part 6

Flailing about with a whip

Jaime: Well, not costumes so much. Not with me. But … smacking, I do that. But it’s not an end in itself. Nor’s, well, tying people up. They’re a means to an end. People don’t just flail about with a whip and call it bdsm.

Gem: No?

Jaime: Well, except idiots. But no-one’s really helpless, and no-one’s really hurt. People use pain to get to pleasure. It can hurt, of course it can hurt, but it also doesn’t hurt. Not when someone’s submitting. 

Gem: Okay.

Jaime: When you’re turned on the pain just feels like more arousal. You feel it as pleasure. Not you exactly; a submissive is likely to feel it as pleasure. The more intense it gets, the more pleasurable. 

Gem: Only up to a point, surely.

Jaime: Yeah, of course. But you stay inside that point. You don’t want to bring your partner out of the mood. 

Gem: But that point must be different for every person. How can you know that you’re not just hurting someone?

More technique than fun

Jaime: You have to know the person. You watch them carefully, to make sure they’re happy. Anyway, like I said, the physical stuff is a means to an end. It’s about the feeling.

Gem: Well, you say it’s about the feeling. But Jaime, it sounds very, oh, like you’re a technician, using all this stuff and these skills. It seems sort of cold.

[Jaime realizes he is standing naked with a woman he loves and lusts for, they’ve been having sex and they’re talking about something sexual, and yet his cock has gone soft. Gem is no doubt feeling similar, and if he doesn’t watch it they’re about to argue.]

Jaime: Okay, I’m doing this wrong. Gem, will you trust me for a while?

[To be continued]

Welcome, e[lust] readers

My post Golden Girl #6 is a featured piece of erotic writing in this month’s e[lust] magazine. 

So welcome, if you’re here via e[lust]!

This blog has been going for a little over two months, and it should continue more or less indefinitely, as an outlet for new writing, thoughts, and fragments of story. My aim is to be sexy, thoughtful, realistic, and occasionally silly. I post each day, but not usually more often than that. So check back once a day and you’ll stay up to date.

More of my posts are in serials than stand-alone form. So if you see something called “Golden Girl 6” it’s usually a good idea to go back to Golden Girl # 1, and work your way through. That story goes up to Golden Girl #8, and it’s a pretty good story.

Anyway, welcome!  

E[lust] #36

e[lust] #36

Welcome to e[lust] – The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #37? Start with the newly updatedrules, come back June 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ Top 3 ~

The Cheshire Cat – Alice felt whiskers tickle her skin and was wracked with sobs of fear. �Oh, little girl, don�t cry. You can stand much more than you think you can.�

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Marionette – “I’m writing out a fantasy of mine, but I’m not sure what to do with some of it. I’m hoping you can help me figure it out.” “Yes Ma’am.”

~ Featured Post (Picked by Lilly) ~

Journeys – These insecurities are at the root of my fears. I don�t know how to combat them, how to turn those tapes off in my head.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

I�ve found a new secret to my G-spot – This g-spot thing might be hard to find since it can�t be mapped, but believe me it is real and with time, exploration, a good clitoral orgasm and a willing set of fingers and/or dildos you CAN find it.

 

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the �read more�� tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

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Another Try at Topping
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pain & sadism: how they intertwine
Tied Up and Tossed in a Corner
Waiting My Turn
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Buying a Toy: What You Need to Know
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My Mother, The Whore
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Around and ’round
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Perfect Cover
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Rack and Ruin part II
Shower Scene
The Third Date
Tickle Monster
Waiting for It
Watching Skylarks

Gem thinks about her cunt while waiting to be leathered Part 5

Jaime [who has 45 minutes to show Gem what bdsm is “like”]: All right. You know when you’re fucking, and it’s really good, really intense?

Gem: I suppose. I might remember what that’s like. Maybe. You’re just fishing for compliments now, aren’t you?

Jaime: See, that’s exactly the sort of remark that’d get your bottom smacked, if you were that sort of girl.

[He’s never threatened or even mentioned a spanking before, not in Gem’s direction. Not even in the most distant and joking way. He pauses to see her reaction. Disappointingly, she only looks wary. He takes his hand, regretfully, off her bottom. They’re still standing close, but no longer touching.]

The oceanic feeling: immersion in the sensual world and emotion, but letting go of the will

Jaime: O … kay, so sometimes when it’s very intense, you might get in a state where you just want it to go on forever. You want to be done to, and to give up your own control.

Gem: Oh yes.

Jaime: And you want to let go, and flow with your feelings and the, um, good stuff that your lover’s doing. So it’s an absolutely sexual feeling, and it’s absolutely about surrender. Okay, so that’s what bdsm’s like. Well, one part of it, anyway. 

Gem [frowns]: Yes, it’s funny that you’re only telling me about submission. 

Jaime: Well …

Gem: No, it’s okay. Anyway, so submission is that feeling? That’s a great feeling, I love that feeling. But, Jaime, if I can get there anyway, why bother with the other stuff? All the … making people do what you tell them, and the costumes and whips and the smackings? And whatever?

Jaime: Ummm …. 

[To be continued]

Gem thinks about her cunt while waiting to be leathered Part 4

Jaime: Hah! “You’ve been good all weekend”, indeed. You mean, “you fucking pervert”. You meant? Yes? [His hand is still on her ass.]

Gem [laughs back at him, but then looks thoughtful]: That bdsm stuff you do. With [name suppressed]. With other women. I just can’t … It doesn’t seem like you.

Jaime: Of course it’s like me. I mean, how I’ve been with you this week, this is me too. But so’s that.

Gem [frowns, considering. After a silence]: What’s that about? What’s it like?

Zas: Jesus! [He looks at the clock. Forty-five minutes left.] Um…

[To be continued.]