Bedroom Eyes 30

I said, “Good.” Stephanie was still breathing hard from my fingers in and then clasping her cunt. I hadn’t been trying to give her pleasure, but she was in a state where it would be impossible for her to take any contact as anything but sexual, and welcome. “There’s something else you need to learn.

“Yes, Master?”

Maires had shown me that Stephanie wanted to go much further and deeper into submission that Maires wanted, or I had expected from her. So it was my job to help her drop. “You’re not to call yourself Stephanie any more. Understand?”

She was puzzled. “Yes, Master?”

“I’m going to name you after your cunt. That’s the most interesting thing about you, little slave, so it can be the whole of your new identity.” I slipped a forefinger into that interesting organ and said, “Tighten. Hard as you can.”

“Yes, Master.”

She obeyed as best she could. I said, “Reasonable control. I’m sure we’ll teach you better in future. Nicely wet, as you’d expect from a worthless girl who needs whipping. But you’ll get the whipping you need often, won’t you?”

“Stephanie was pleased to be promised that. “Yes, Master.”

Often. I promise you. Your vaginal muscles are strong, though your Master and Mistress, we’ll both train them. So … we’ll call you -“

From the wall Maires said, “Permission to speak, Master?”

“Denied, Maires. If I want to hear from you I’ll ask you to speak. If I have to tell you that again, you’ll find your arse matching this slave’s.” Maires closed her eyes. Then she nodded.

This was to happen without her input, as so much of what she’;d done with Stephanie had happened without mine. I turned my attention back to Stephanie, and smacked her cunt hard with the tip of the crop. She gasped, but did not speak.

“Yes. Your name is Scallop. You’re named after your cunt. From now on, with Maires or me, you will call yourself only Scallop. Not ‘Stephanie’, obviously, but no ‘I’ or ‘me’ or ‘mine’ either. In your mind you are Scallop, when you’re with either of us. You use that name and no other, and no pronouns. Understood?”

“Yes, Master. Scallop understands.”

I wanted to smile, hug her and tell her she was good, and beautiful, and loved. But I knew that would break a spell, and this spell shouldn’t break: not for Stephanie.

“Good. You can be Stephanie in company. But if I hear any name but Scallop from you when we’re together, you’ll find that Maires has quite a gentle touch with the riding crop, compared to your Master.”

Wide-eyed, Stephanie nodded. “Yes Master. I am Scallop.” Then she looked shocked and put her hands to her mouth, hoping to take those words back. “Scallop is sorry, Master. Scallop meant, Scallop knows her name. It’s a good name, if Scallop is allowed to say so.”

I took her nipple and pinched it until pain showed in her face. “Maires?”

“Yes, Master?”

“Give Scallop six of the best. With the cane, please.”

Maires came away from the wall and took the cane from its place on the bed. She looked at Stephanie. “Scallop, you know what to do.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Stephanie turned so her back was to me, and bent over, grabbing her ankles.

“Sorry, Scallop, that won’t do. From now on, when you bend over for punishment you touch your toes.”

Stephanie had to grunt and bend her knees very slightly to adopt the required position. I said, “You’ll practice every day till you can do that properly.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Maires.” Maires applied the cane hard, and drew a loud squealing cry from Stephanie with every stroke. When the punishment was delivered I said, “Scallop, that wasn’t a punishment, it was just a warning. You don’t have the right to use your old name, or pronouns with us. Don’t get that wrong again, or it’ll be me who deals with it.”

“No, Master.” A tear, shed during her caning, had reached her lip and she caught it with her tongue. “Thank you for my lesson, Master and Mistress.”

It was hard not saying she was a good girl. But I said, “Put the cane in the wardrobe, Scallop, and bring me the lube. I’m going to buttfuck your Mistress. Would you like to watch?”

For the first time since she’d crawled into the room she smiled. “Yes please, Master.”

Maires grinned. “You’d rather get buttfucked yourself, wouldn’t you, little Scallop?”

Stephanie had to think. This was a complicated sentence, with many chances to accidentally use a forbidden word. “Scallop would like Scallop’s Master’s cock, wherever he wants to put it. In Scallop. Up Scallop’s arse would be … Yes, please.”

I said, “From now on you only get pleasure when you’ve deserved it, Scallop. So you may have to wait.”

“Yes, Master. Scallop understands.”

“But Maires, hands and knees on the bed. Scallop, lube your Mistress. Thoroughly.”

So Maires took her place, aiming her ass at me, and made a sound that was almost like purring as Stephanie squeezed out lube and worked it inside her rectum, coating those muscles thoroughly, over and again.

“All right, Scallop. Step back a metre, and you’re not to touch yourself. In fact, hands on head.”

“Yes, Master.”

I crawled forward on the bed, cock pointing at Maires’s arse. I put my hand on her hip.

[To be continued]


Book covers, one censored and one – I hope – not

I’ve just tried to get an erotic book published. It uses some material taken from this blog, but goes on to turn a short story into a whoie novel.

Anyway, it’s just been rejected for publication, because the cover is too sexy. Here’s the original cover I provided.

So I got rid of the bumcrack, and that nice blush on her bottom where I’d spanked her, and came up with this more demure image.

So wish me luck!

Me now

Inquiring minds may want to know what I look like. If you write erotica you should aspire to be hawt.

I’d say I’m presentable rather than hot, but beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, and anyway here I am. A man with a thing for silly jackets, that even Michael Jackson might have thought a bit over the top. Pic taken about two minutes ago.


Bedroom Eyes 29

There was fingernail skittering at the bedroom door, quite low, like a cat scratching to be let in. I said, “Come in!”

A second passed, then the handle turned. Another second passed and the pair of them emerged into the room, Stephanie on her hands and knees, and Maires on her back riding her. Both were naked, their clothes presumably shed in the kitchen. Maires had one hand on Stephanie’s right ear, while her left hand was behind her, holding the riding crop against Stephanie’s left thigh.

Stephanie’s face was a bright red, with darker patches at her cheekbones. Her eyes and nose still ran.

She had, after all, just taken a more severe whipping than I’d ever given Maires, or any submissive. She looked at at the carpet, uncertain if she had permission to look at me or speak. A glistening drop ran down her nose and onto the carpet. I realised that the darker red around her cheekbones wasn’t due to embarrassment but abrasion. When Stephanie had been serving Maires, Maires had clamped her face hard between her thighs, and Stephanie had had to push hard to work her mouth and tongue while tightly held.

Maires said, “Thank you, Master.” She might have been thanking me for permission to enter or her use of Stephanie.

“You’ve obviously had a good time, Maires. But has my new girl had a good time as well?”

Maires said, “I don’t think my ride has ever been so certain, before, that she’s in the place she belongs. And she’s happy to be in her place. Would you mind if I show you, Master?”

“Of course.”

Maires took Stephanie’s right ear in a firmer grip and pulled. Stephanie began to turn, Maires still riding her, until she presented her – and Maires’s for that matter – buttocks and thighs. But while Maires was only lightly marked from discipline I’d given her earlier, Stephanie’s bottom and legs were one large and painful-looking red blotch: a vista of red with occasional darker stripes where the crop had taken her particularly hard.

Maires stood then, her thighs straddling Stephanie, and dismounted. She crossed to the bed and passed me the riding crop. She said, “She took her floggings, and her service well, for a new slave. If I’ve done wrong, Master, please punish me.” She turned away from me and bent herself like a jackknife, her fingertips touching her toes. That was a position she always found slightly uncomfortable, and by choosing it she was making assurances to me about our relationship.

Both women were beautiful, desirable, and presented. I was tempted to take Maires’s offer, and whip her while she was presented, for my own pleasure. Perhaps also because I was slightly ashamed of myself for not having understood the depth of submission that Stephanie wanted, and I was slightly cross with Maires for having been more astute than I’d been.

But while those might be reasons for wanting to flog Maires, they were not good reasons for actually doing it.

I said to Maires, “I’ll deal with you later. For now, get up, love, and stand with your nose to the wall.”

“Yes, Master.” Maires put her hands on her head and walked to press herself against the wall, feet a little apart. She walked to the wall and put her hands on her head, a lithe woman, a clever woman, a woman who knew the relatively pale state of her own skin would not last.

I looked at Stephanie, on her knees with her back to me, her bottom and thighs thoroughly and remorselessly whipped. “You on your hands and knees! Come here!”

Stephanie made to turn and I said, “No! Backwards! Come here, girl.”

She made a sound of understanding, then said, “Yes, Master.” I watched her approach, her cunt and smaller hole seeming to watch me as she crawled. She stopped when I laid the shaft of the crop on her lower back.

I said, “Spread,” and she acknowledged the order then moved her knees about half a metre apart, her back arched like a cat. I clasped her cunt, hard, between two fingers, not seeking to give her pleasure or reward. She was wonderfully wet,  slippery, engorged: I released my grip on her labia and spanked her, starting at medium hard and quickly building up to full punishment spanking.

But I’d have to stop soon, I realised. It was hard not giving Stephanie loving words, to let her know that though we hurt her physically we loved her. As well, she was enjoying the feel of my bare hand against her cunt too much. I shouldn’t be giving Stephanie pleasure. Her world had to be harsh, for now. So I stopped the spanking and said, “Maires taught you a lot about your place, didn’t she?”

“Oh, yes, Master. Thank you, Mistress!” Maires, her body pressed against the wall, said nothing. She knew she didn’t have permission to speak.

[To be continued]

Bedroom Eyes 28

So I lay in bed. Just a few minutes ago that bed had had two women in it, then one. Now there were none. I liked it better before.

Maires, who I loved, had taken the riding crop to see Stephanie, who I also loved. Our dynamic was complicated because Stephanie had reacted submissively to Maires as well as to me, and Maires had discovered a dominant streak in herself. At least when it came to Stephanie.

Since I was nominally and perhaps really in charge, I’d granted Maires her wish to explore her new-found dominant side with Stephanie. I was ashamed of myself for it, but I was frightened that they might get on so well that I’d lose them both, and that would destroy all my happiness, possibly for years. But I knew that Stephanie really did love me, and so did Maires.

And both of them liked male energy and smell, and they enjoyed their interactions with cock too much to want to give it up. So I told myself. So I lay alone and tried to get to sleep. I was exhausted, having spent that night as a sexual provider for both of them.

But I heard a gasp from the kitchen. That was Stephanie. Then there was a low conversation, which ended with a slap. It might have been Stephanie’s face, or her bottom. Then I heard Maires. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but she did a reasonable imitation of my command voice.

At the end of Maires’s order I heard a quiet sound from Stephanie. I knew she’d just said, “Yes Mistress.”

Then there was silence. I tried not to imagine what might be happening, and I was drifting to sleep when I heard Maires’s orgasm noise. The guttural, grunting, hard one. Stephanie had paid homage, lip and tongue and nose service, to her Mistress.

There was more silence, and then I heard a kitchen chair dragged across the floor. A sharp command from Maires, loud enough so I knew she’d said Stephanie hadn’t been trying hard enough, and to bend over the back of that chair. Now, slave!

Stephanie, and in a different way I, had to wait nearly ten minutes before the flogging started, the unmistakable sharp slap of a riding crop hitting flesh, over and over. Stephanie was using the shaft as well as the tag. Well, she’d always liked the sight of her own stripes.

Stephanie began to whimper, barely audibly from my room though it would be louder in the kitchen. After a time, with Maires still remorseless, the whimpers became cries and ultimately screams. Maires didn’t stop or even slightly vary the speed or force of the strokes. The flogging went on for what felt like an incredibly long time, though I knew it was only about six minutes.

When the strokes stopped coming, Stephanie for some reason only cried out and wailed louder. She ignored Maires’s command, “Silence!” There was another resounding slap, probably Maires’s hand across her cheek, and Stephanie stopped her noise, instantly. 

There was another murmured command, and as silence resumed I knew this time what was happening. And though I’d been exhausted, my cock was taking an interest and taking on blood. I seemed to be developing an erection again.

The silence continued until Maires came again. It wasn’t quite as loud as her first orgasm, but there was no question that she was enjoying herself. I heard Stephanie say something. It was the hesitant question of a submissive afraid she’d failed to please.

So Maires, I took it, gave her notes on how better to please her. After a few minutes the kitchen chair jerked again and then the flogging resumed, with Stephanie responding high and pained to each stroke. I would not have flogged Stephanie so hard. Maires was pitiless. I had a sense, though, that this was what Stephanie had wanted, and that Maires was right.

After a long time Maires stopped. Stephanie had wailed and screamed throughout her flogging, but after the last stroke she fell silent immediately without being told. After a few seconds I heard her say, loudly by her standards, “Thank you, Mistress.” 

Then more silence, followed at last by Maires’s third orgasm, sounding more wrenched from her than her first two.

I waited for Stephanie’s third flogging, but it didn’t come. Instead I heard rustling and kitchen drawers opened and shut. After a while I heard the slap of crop on flesh again. Incredibly, they were moving. The crop sounded every fifteen to twenty seconds. They passed my bedroom door and went on to the bathroom.

There I expect Maires allowed Stephanie to inspect the state of her bottom and thighs in the mirror. The shower ran, and afterwards I assume that Stephanie received an anointment of cold cream and perhaps even, finally, a loving word from Maires.

At last I heard a knock on the lower panels of my bedroom door.

Bedroom Eyes 27

Maires had asked me if I were jealous of the bond that seemed to be developing between her and Stephanie. It was a question that needs thought, but it also needs an instant answer.

“No, of course not,” I said. “You’re both doing new things – you’re being dominant, and Stephanie’s getting turned on by another woman. I really don’t want to lose you, and I’d be devastated if I did, but I think you should both explore. That,” I grimaced, because I suspected I was lying, “Is the truth.”

Maires came closer, and looked into my eyes. She brushed the hair off my forehead, so we could each see ourselves reflected in the other’s eyes. “Master, I love you. And I’m in lust with you.” She put her hand on my cock, which was still wet with her, or with Stephanie. She smiled at me till I smiled back at her. “I know for a fact that Stephanie is too. In love with you and in lust. But we both want to explore. I feel that from her, and I know I feel the same.”

I said, “I know. And I’m not exactly jealous. Part of me fears that you’ll go off together and leave me behind. I hope that’s stupid: no, I’m sure it is. But I think that fear’s a very slightly different thing from jealousy. Or maybe it isn’t. Anyway, I love you, and I love Stephanie. I hate having to be brave, but I can do it. Explore, my love.”

Maires kissed me. “Master, Jaime, that’s not good enough. Please trust that I love you. I know that Stephanie does. I just want to do something naughty with her. I think it’ll make her closer to you, and I think you’ll like the result. But please, my love, do trust me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

I smacked her bottom, as a reminder and for the sensual pleasure of it.”This is wise. If I owned you but didn’t trust you, what would be the point? Anyway, Stephanie’s in the kitchen and I’m sure she won’t mind being interrupted. Maybe you could inspect the plates she’s washed. I bet they’re not perfect. Anyway, you can grab Stephanie in the kitchen, and I’m putting no restrictions on you.”

Maires kissed me again, then scrambled up. Standing, she said, “I know you’re being brave, but I promise you you don’t need to be. You don’t get to be my master, or Stephanie’s, unless we love you.”

I leaned back in the bed and smiled up at her. “Enjoy yourself, and make sure Stephanie does too.”

“Oh Master, I can promise you that too.” She turned, ready to go out the door. She wiggled, knowing that always cheered me up.

I threw a pillow at her. “You make a good hussy.”

“Thank you Jaime.” As she put her hand on the door handle she turned. “Master, would it be all right if I took the riding crop?”

Bedroom eyes 26

We woke, a heap of entangled bodies, at about six in the evening. I got up and put on my robe, black with gold dragons, and went to the kitchen to made a Thai duck red curry with rice. It’s one of my show-off dishes, and I had both Maires and Stephanie to show off to. You can’t just convince two women that you’re worth hanging out with, also submitting to. It’s a process, not a goal, and it doesn’t end: you have to keep on being convincing.

I heard sounds from the bedroom while I was busy. Someone, presumably Stephanie, was getting spanked. It lasted a long, long time. Stephanie started to vocalise after a couple of minutes, and I liked the mental picture that made. There were occasional pauses, when Stephanie moaned with pleasure. 

Then there was a longer silence, until Maires began her own orgasm noises and I knew why I wasn’t hearing from Stephanie any more. Her tongue was being put to use. I stirred the curry. 

A few minutes later they emerged, neither having showered, both smelling of sex and warm bread, wearing one of my white shirts. I brought out plates and we sat at the kitchen table, Stephanie beside me, both of us facing Maires. We said little and ate home-made Thai food.

Both my shirts were unbuttoned, full of beautiful, warm womanhood. I welcomed them both, with my arms round them while we swayed together and kissed. A woman wearing a man’s shirt is accepting various things from him, and that can’t help but feel good.

Still, during dinner I could see and feel that Maires and Stephanie weren’t focussing on me. Stephanie flirted with Maires and three times “accidentally” called her “Mistress.” Maires liked being Mistress. So they were happily turning each other on and to some extent they were taking the piss out of the man who’d been running things till then.

I was happy to sit back and watch. Stephany was the one of us with the least experience, and she’d turned out to be more consistently submissive than Maires, wanting to give herself to both of us. She was getting what she wanted, and if that meant she had to wind up her two Doms she was happy to do that. Maires touched my foot, under the table, and winked when I looked over at her. Stephanie, finishing her curry, didn’t notice. 

She was interested in other desires than food. She put her spoon on the plate and said, “That was delicious, thank you, Master.”

I said, “Good girl. Clean up for us now, and come back when you’ve put the dishes in rthe dishwasher.”

Stephanie stood, holding her plate. She said, “Yes, Master,” but turned to Maires first and said, “May I take your plate, Mistress?”

She was in range so I smacked her bottom, still warm and red from other discipline she’d had that day, most recently from Maires. My hand was hard enough for her to jump a little and yelp. “Master?”

“Do you address Maires as Mistress when you’re both with me?” 

Stephanie bit her lip. She doesn’t usually do that: it was calculated to make her cute. Then she dropped to her knees beside me. She kissed my foot, then looked up. “I’m sorry, Master, but I’m finding it hard not to. She’s my Mistress in my heart and in my cunt. I know you’re Master, for both of us. But I don’t want to call her Maires. It feels disrespectful.”

I put two of my fingers into her mouth, so she could tongue and suck gently. “What have I promised you after dinner, Stephanie?”

She didn’t even pretend to look sorry, or worried. “You’re going to teach me what the cane feels like, Master.”

“That’s right. A long, hard, introduction, for you, love. All right. Good girl. Take our plates away and wash them. Come straight back when you’ve finished.”

Stephanie took her shirt off. Some things are best done naked. She kissed my foot again, then licked me, as a sort of promise. She stood. She looked down at herself, and I guessed she was sorry she couldn’t curtsey. After a second she gave me a full bow from the waist.

She expected that I’d like what that did for her breasts, and she was right. Maires smacked Stephanie’s bottom while she was conveniently presented and winked at me again. 

Stephanie said, “Thank you, Mistress.” I nodded at her and she turned to face Maires. I decided she’d won her point: Maires was her Mistress. They smiled at each other, as Stephanies cleared her plate, then mine, and left. There was a short silence, while Maires and I looked at each other.

At last she said, “Are you jealous, Master?”


Bedroom Eyes 25

I lay back with Maires on her tummy between my legs, her hands tightly holding my thighs, mouth on my cock. I’d long ago withdrawn permission for her to use her hands when she sucked my cock, and I watched her head bobbing, keeping me in her warm, wet and mobile mouth.

Stephanie lay on her side, stroking my hair and watching my facial expressions as Maires pleasured me. She’d never been in a position to watch a man’s face as he was being sucked before. She smiled benignly, as if she was watching children playing nicely. Sometimes she put her hand on the back of Maires’s neck in encouragement. 

I could feel the stirring of orgasm, a distance away but getting closer, and so I put my hands on the back of Maires’s head and held her down. I thrust hard into her, because I couldn’t help myself, and anyway I wanted to stop her breathing, at least through her mouth. She grunted: she liked that.

I said, “Up,” and let her go. Maires clambered to her knees and looked at me, considering. She’d been promised a fuck, since Stephanie had had all the sexual attention recently from both of us, until I’d demanded she suck me. I’d needed that: I’d make my promise but I hadn’t been sure I’d be hard and committed for her. Now I was. Maires bent down briefly and kissed the head of my cock. Then she turned, her back to me, and straddled me so my cock sank into her, or rather she sank onto my cock.

I gasped when her buttocks rested on my groin, my cock deep, or high, buried in more intimate warmth. I smacked her left buttock once, to let her know I approved, and she began to move, fucking me, taking her pleasure.

All I had to do was watch her, which was wonderful enough, and hold back my orgasm until she’d ridden me to her own.

Stephanie leaned forward to kiss me, and then raised herself a little, leaning forward, to direct her left nipple into my mouth.

I sucked her, then grazed her with my teeth, because I knew she liked that. But then I bit just a little harder, as a warning, and she backed off. I had Maires’s amazing ass to watch. 

I felt Maires’s hands resting on my knees then, and she raised herself and then dropped spectacularly, working herself on me. Stephanie kissed me again, but only for a second. She moved down the bed to kiss Maires’s cunt, then stayed, pleasuring her with her nose and tongue. With that pressure Maires lowed like a calf hunting for its mother, and sped up. 

I put my hands on the junction of Maires’s waist and her spread thighs, and held her tight. She was making little cries and grunts now, that I recognised and loved. We were near the end. I started to thrust back, in time with her. I was still trying to hold back, but I knew I wouldn’t have to for much longer. 

Maires said, “Ah.” Almost conversationally, then she wailed. I felt contractions in her cunt, a sort of flutter, and I held her tighter and thrust upwards, hard as I could. In a few seconds we both grunted and growled, a sort of mammalian dawn chorus, and I let myself come in her. I continued thrusting, losing my rhythm, until Maires had run down. 

Maires leaned back, my cock still in her, until she lay on top, her back to me. I put my hands on her breasts and squeezed tight. She turned her head to kiss my neck. She sighed, the happy kind. Then Stephanie leaned forward and kissed Maires’s mouth. Maires kissed her back, but after a time shook her head. “You want too much attention, Stephanie. Sometimes you won’t be the star.”

Stephanie said, “Yes, Mistress.” She caught my eye: my disapproving. I’d said they were equals when I was with them. “I’m sorry, Master. And I expect you’ll punish me. I probably deserve it. But I can’t help thinking of … Maires – it’s hard for me even to say the name now – as anything but Mistress. May I call her that?”

I had to think about that. I didn’t want Maires to be anything but a slavegirl, when I was with her. But I understood how Stephanie felt. She wanted to be at the bottom, with a Master and a Mistress. At last I said, “After dinner, I’m going to give you your first caning. You know that, Stephanie.”

“Yes, Master. Of course. Though that’s scary.”

“Then you will cane Maires.” Maires looked at me, surprised, but made no protest. Then she smiled: that could be fun too, including Stephanie’s confusion. “You’d better do it hard, or it’ll be worse for you, little slave.”

“Oh. Oh, I see. But can I call her Mistress?”

“You will. With every stroke.”

Stephanie straddled Maires then, her thighs under Maires’s breasts, her cunt just out of Maires’s reach. She leaned down and kissed me. “Thank you, Master. I’m sure Mistress won’t forget her place.” Maires, sandwiched between me and Stephanie, laughed briefly. This was absurd. “And I’ll find it much easier.”

My cock had softened, and when Maires moved to dislodge Stephanie it slipped out of its sweet place. I pulled both of them down, Maires under my right arm and Stephanie at my left. Maires said, “Sleepies?”

Stephanie frowned. “Oh, all right.”

I smacked her belly, then her cunt. After two more smacks she relaxed. “You need rest too. It’s being a good day.”