Wicked Wednesday: Juniper’s Adventures 30

My teacher kept me after class, the bitch. She was taunting me, knowing I was desperate to leave. She asked me how many strokes I’d had on the hand, and whether I’d been paddled before. She was watching the clock the whole time. She let me go at 12.03. She chose that because she knew I’d have no chance of making it to the head’s office by 12.05, as he’d instructed me, and that if I had two minutes I’d try anyway. So I ran.

 

I’m going to have to cut here, though. This has been published and my publishers don’t want free competition from me. You can read it here

 

Novel news: Shar’s submission: good from her first drop

We embraced in the hotel room, beside the bed. I undid Shar’s jeans and pulled her top off. “Turn round, Shar.”

Shar turned her back. She’d forgotten to make a demonstration of how good she was being: look! I even humor you when you give me an order! Nor did she produce her usual playful defiance. I made no comment because simple obedience is another stage in submission, and in its early stages it’s fragile.

I undid her bra and took it off her, holding her breasts firmly while she leant back against me.

I kissed her neck and pinched her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. Not to hurt, but to make her aware that I could hurt her, if I chose to. She was, literally, in my hands. Submission, when it’s offered, has to be accepted and rewarded.

She sighed and pushed her ass back against my groin. I said, “Excuse me.” I pushed her panties down to her knees, and held one hand to her lower belly, almost touching her cunt. “Take those right off.”

“Yes, Sir.” Shar crouched for an instant. She was naked now, nicely contrasted with fully-clothed me.

“Spread your legs for me.” My fingers pressed, frustratingly, just above her cunt, and that made that order one that had to be obeyed urgently. She spread, and fell forward a little when two of my fingers entered her, relying on me to catch her.

“Good girl.” I slipped a third finger inside her and pressed and stroked spongy wet girl. Her breath synchronized with the movements of my fingers. “That’s good. Who’s a good girl?”

“Me, Sir?” She was pretty sure that was the right answer, but she didn’t want to seem smug about it.

“Yes. You.” I smacked her bottom, affectionately but hard enough to hurt, if she was in one mood, and for her to feel relieved and released by it if she were in another mood.

She said, very quietly, “Hahrr.” So she was in the mood where being smacked felt good. I took my fingers out of her and held them to her mouth. Shar hesitated for a moment and I smacked her again. She opened her mouth and sucked my fingers. She’d been reluctant to have me lick her this morning, I wondered if this was the first time she’d ever tasted herself. I didn’t ask. She seemed happy enough not to have to think.

“Good girl. Now face me.” Shar turned and we kissed. I put my hands on her ass, cupping one rounded, muscled half-globe in each hand, then lifted and separated slightly.

That reminded her of something. “You’re going to use that tawse on me now, aren’t you?”

“Yes, love. But not as a punishment. For pleasure. Including your pleasure, though I’m going to enjoy it. You’ve been incredibly good.”

Shar kissed me again, smiling. She liked being told she was good. My approval had become important.

“I’m awed by what you did for that girl this afternoon. I was so proud to be with you. So I couldn’t punish you again. Today.”

She smiled, irony back in her expression. “Today.”

 

Note:

Another segment of novel. For you because I love you all, and also because I’m writing, and very short on blogging time.. 

Wicked Wednesday: Fucking ages away

Shhh-stack! sang the whip. (Which she bought from the Sentient Whips store on Vulcan)

“His sexual slug lolled against his thigh.”

Neil Gaiman pointed out in Ghastly Beyond Belief, an anthology of bad science fiction writing, that the danger of writing sex scenes set in the far future is that people won’t know what’s metaphor and what’s supposed to be taken literally. 

Does our hero have a pet sexual slug who comes over and does nice things for him, or has the writer thought of a metaphor for a post-fuck penis, relaxed, wet with his partner’s pleasure and some of his own, and lolling happily?

In a similar vein, there’s this:

“He watched, awed, as she took off her space helmet, shaking free her lustrous blonde hair. She removed her space suit, her voluptuous figure revealed in the tight, figure-hugging lines of her satin-velcro skin-suitsuit. As she stripped down to her leotard, he marvelled, admiring the erotic promise of her camel toe.” 

Fortunately, the camel toe isn’t connected to the rest of the camel, and its erotic promise was, “Yep, she don’t mind a smack on the arse, but bite her nipples and she’ll rip both your lungs out.”

Then it jumped off her leotard and hopped, as unaccompanied toes must do if they wish to move around, out of the scene. Phew!

Spang! Spang!

There was a Robert Heinlein science fiction novel, The Number of the Beast, in which the story was told in first person as a woman character. The heroine/narrator had amazing mobile nipples, that went “spang!” every time they erected. That was very often, believe me. I don’t know if he ever explained the nippleesque sound effects, because I couldn’t finish the book. I also never got to find out what her cunt said in moments of excitement. Ah, well.

Heinlein was a good writer, once. But by the time he died he’d managed to make himself into a terrible, terrible one. 

“I can’t make it tonight, honey, I’ve got crabs,” he said, inevitably.

Anyway, my point is that he garooded her firm proud pavanes lustily, causing her to shoockle like a Deleuzian lovecat in its annual droxa-heat. Her seven breasts, like her eight jewel-encrusted eyes, were on fire with passion.

No, really, they were on fire. Everything was extremely flammable on that planet, because of its atmosphere. It was high on oxygen, and therefore too obsessed by the myriad lines on its own right hand to notice as it spiralled towards the sun. In the year 2157!

“Oooh,” she moaned, “lunge that spockle, and floofe me hard!”  

Swiftly he grasped her heaving haunches, and …

 

Note:

I’ve been caught by novel deadlines. Maddy, our usual Wicked Wednesday guest, will have to wait a week before she returns to the headmaster’s office. Poor girl: they say the worst thing is the anticip

.

Finger-fucking in the taxi (FREE novel excerpt)

“God, I’m sorry about last night. I was having nerves. How was your flight?”

I shrugged. “Tried to sleep. Did manage to tune out. And you’re never, ever to hide nerves from me. That’s an order.”

Shar smiled complacently. “You’re going to like giving me orders, aren’t you?”

“Yup. What I won’t like is repeating them. That’s when you get your ass smacked.”

“But you’ll do that anyway. Already do.”

At about the same moment I said, “Taxi.”

“Trains are cheaper.”

“Not so much, for two people. And we got bags. And you’re a girl with no knickers on, and you might need privacy. “ She didn’t blush. So I said, “Though you will have to behave yourself. Taxi driver could hardly miss it if I have to punish you.” That worked.

She said, “Er…” But we rolled our bags to the taxi stand.

I organized the handle of my carry-on bag and my coat to block the gap between the front seats.

Shar sat beside me, staring forward, eyes glazing a little, while I slipped my fingers between warm damp thighs and into her cunt. Shar’s mouth dropped. She hadn’t been sure I really would do this. But she was a wet,welcoming girl.

She smiled, amused by me. Then she made her face straight, as if this wasn’t happening. I stroked inside her cunt, sometimes gently and sometimes hard, making her gasp as quietly as she could.

She tried to keep her upper body still and her face blank, At the same time she rolled her hips slightly and slowly to move with and make use of my fingers.

She put her hand on my wrist, not to stop me but to hold me, squeezing sometimes tight and sometimes with every ounce of her strength. Her face was red, not from embarrassment but from the effort of suppressing any – or most – sounds of her pleasure.

Cause something is happening and you don’t know what it is…

The taxi driver was grumpy when we stopped, though not because a woman had been pleasured in the back of his cab. He knew that much, I suppose, because there was a particularly focussed quality in our silence, with Shar’s occasional gasps, that gave us away.

Taxi drivers must be used to that sort of thing in their back seats, and if they minded unduly they wouldn’t drive taxis.

What annoyed him was that the little wall I’d built with my bag and coat meant he hadn’t been able to watch in the rear vision mirror, and the angle was wrong for cab-cam.

I wondered if that, in some taxi-driver-centric universe, was a legitimate grievance. I decided it couldn’t be but tipped him over the odds anyway. So we shook hands, though he knew where my hand had been, and parted on mutually congratulatory terms.

E[lust] 94: The joy of pain

Exposing 40 Elust 94
Photo courtesy of Exposing 40

Welcome to Elust 94

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 Elust. Want to be included in Elust #95 Start with the rules, come back June 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Always Coming Second

Balance

THREESOME – the card game

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

The #500words Project ~ 2

#Pussy Pride

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

 

https://jerusalemmortimer.com/wicked-wednesday-maddies-virginity-story-2/

Wicked Wednesday: Maddie’s virginity 3

Erotic Fiction

Forgiven
Finally A Prostitute
On Display
World Traveller
Red
Ms. Mona’s Online Dating School for Dudes

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

BDSM is Not My Source for Life.
Pure and Simple
Discussing Consent & Scene Negotiation

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

You can
All for one, or one for all…
He haunts me.

Erotic Non-Fiction

Oh no, I’m not.
the shoot begins
Raylene’s pain does not matter

Poetry

-05.05.17_00:21-
White Tee Shirt

Body Talk and Sexual Health

Orgasm Challenge

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

A Kink Couple Fantasize About the Waitstaff

 

 

Elust 88

Wicked Wednesday: Juniper’s Adventures 29

So I’d just told the headmaster I was made to be strapped and spanked. By him. Seems I have a thing for headmasters, don’t I? He smiled at me. Because I’d said the right thing. And because he knew perfectly well that I wanted him.

 

I’m going to have to cut here, though. This has been published and my publishers don’t want free competition from me. You can read it here

Free novel segment!

Once again I’m busy with my book. I’d like to produce the next episode of the Raylene saga, but I’ve set myself the goal of finishing the novel by 31 May. 

So here’s another novel excerpt!

 

FREE novel excerpt!

Not illustrating anything in the actual story, worse luck. But the Tao of Nipple-Biting belongs everywhere

I lifted my head. “Good girl, beautiful girl, wondergirl, good girl, lovely sexy girl, that was so -”

But I stopped because I couldn’t think of anything that compared to what had just happened.

So I lowered my head and kissed Daphne’s cunt with adoration. Then I kissed it goodbye, and inched my way up her body, kissing points of interest on the way.

I took her left nipple in her mouth, sucked it erect and then bit it lightly, apply little grazing bites and rubbing gently with tongue and teeth.

Daphne muttered something pleasure-related, arching her back to give me better access. I sucked the nipple and as much of her breast as I could manage into my mouth. 

She looked down then and saw my face for the first time since I’d thrown her onto the bed. “Oh god, your face! You’re wet! Did I -?”

“Absolutely. Quite a lot really.”

“Oh god, Freddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was going to do that. It hasn’t happened in ages.”

“Now you’re just making me smug.”

“Well, not all guys like it. Some react like it’s, well, gross.”

“Any guy who is anything except flattered is not worth your time and has no place in your bed. Fact.”

“Wow. That’s fervent. And a bit hardline. What if he hadn’t heard of it and didn’t expect it. And he thought I’d pissed on him?”

“If he doesn’t do his reading he deserves to have you piss on him. OK, if he’s cute you’re allowed to forgive him, I suppose. Anyway, I was flattered beyond belief. Specially when you said you hadn’t done it in ages.”

“Smug is right. By the way, didn’t you spank me in the middle of all that? Who said you could spank me?”

“Um. I could say, ‘the moment’, or something. But I got no excuse, unless I guessed right and you found it a little bit hot. I took a risk. No, the fact is, I had no right to.”

“I bet that’s not part of your code of ethics, is it?”

“No.”

“Hah! I like that I made you break your code of ethics. And yes, I did find it a little bit hot.”

There was some risk of a conversation about sexual politics. Which I enjoy, but just then my cock was hard, and it would wilt under political pressure. I was certain we could think of better things to do. So I clambered a little further up her body and kissed her mouth. Daphne kissed me back, and put her hands back in my hair. We were being lovers again.