Bound for glory

I don’t do bondage often, and it shows. It’s functional rather than elegant, when I do it. I prefer the submissive to stay in her place because she’s giving me her obedience, not because she can’t move. Choice, to me, is incredibly sexy.

But I learned, with time, that bondage allows the submissive to go into a mental place, with the brain doing alpha waves, which is different from subspace but very close to it. It’s the space next door, and it’s a place she likes to be, sometimes. 

So, if she’s been good, a submissive gets to go there. I have ropes.


E{lust} 120: Duets in the sun

Elust 120

Photo courtesy of Purple’s Gem

Welcome to Elust 120

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 #119? 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 ~

In full swing

The Hunter

[Sexuality] The Pain of Tolerance

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

First Ritual

Being Overlooked

Erotic Non-Fiction
Piercings – His and Hers
Ever had your skirt fall off while walking
Tiny Man-Clit Meets The Bigdownunder

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish
Frustrated Whimpers

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships
Surviving Toxicity
How To Have Sex When You Live At Home
When life gets in the way
George Clooney said I looked like Geena Davis
Fuck You Dad
I guess it feels a little wierd now

Erotic Fiction
Natalie’s New Friend
Kneel before me
Lasshole fucker 4
Deep Impact


E(lust) 119

Photo courtesy of Floss Does Life

Welcome to Elust 119

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 #119? 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 ~

Poly wobbles

Friendly Concern


~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~


Wait Silently

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Sensual Indulgence, Familiar and New

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
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!


Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Teaching (from) the bottom (part 1)
An Intro to Ethical Cum Tributes
What is Dominance?
Reader Q&A: Femdom Podcast 105 [w transcript]
Unmentionable Lifestyle
In the wild

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Laughter, The Best Aphrodisiac
I Hate Bullies!

Erotic Non-Fiction

Devilish Threesome Fun
Cumming Awake
Flying Chaste

Body Talk and Sexual Health

How Taking Nudes Taught Me To Love Myself
Guest post: Trans access to abortion

Erotic Fiction

Milky Way
More Than Friends Prologue
Twisted ~ Into The Woods ~ Lana’s Story
A Gift to the Gods
A New Fetish
Coitus Interruptus Vampyr
Making herself available

Writing About Writing

Smut Marathon – Round 4 Thoughts

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

A True Friend
Trust your landmark and run through the smoke
I’m not interested.



Food for Thought Friday: Mistake

The morning after the party,

A bedroom door opened and Cassie emerged, in a manga tee-shirt that hung almost to her knees. Cassie was a doctor, a glowing light-brown woman with large, almost black eyes and an extraordinarily sweet face framed by medium-length black hair. She was small but contoured. She lifted weights.

Cassie was embarrassed to find me, and uncertain of her welcome. Last night she’d performed the party’s most spectacular piece of bad behaviour, launching a screaming attack on her best friend, accusing her of fucking her last boyfriend, of pretending to be sweet but always undermining her and other feminine offences.

It’d been the least fun part of the evening, but I’d already forgiven her because the outburst had been so out of character, and because, only a few minutes later, Cassie had fallen asleep in that same friend’s arms. Wine sometimes solves the problems that it creates.

But Cassie was hung over, embarrassed and ashamed, so I hugged her. I let her go when she winced. But she emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, having dealt with her bladder and her head, and wrestled her way back into the hug. “I’m really sorry, Jaime. I don’t know what … Well, I’m sorry.”

“Ah, love, it’s okay. You’d had a bit of wine. And … you probably had reasons.” I found myself hugging Cassie with one arm while reaching down to squeeze her ass with my other hand.

Cassie rubbed my chest with her forehead. “No, I didn’t have reasons. Not good ones.”

“Well, okay, but I still know you’re a wee love. You’ve got years of credit with me; you can’t blow it in one evening.”

Cassie smiled up at me. “And I still don’t think it came from nowhere.” More smiles.

A nice man was being nice to her. And the ass-squeezing was probably a great comfort in her time of self-recrimination. Then information from that bottom-squeezing hand swamped my brain. I added, “Though … if you ever do anything like that again, Cassie, I’ll put you over my knee.”

It took me a moment to hear what I’d just said. I sounded like a roué in an ancient sex comedy, something black and white and British, on television at three in the morning, starring Terry-Thomas and Syd James. I’d kept bdsm hidden for years. I played bdsm with strangers, or I masturbated to dark fantasies, but I didn’t offer to spank my women friends. Or I hadn’t until just then.

It was the stupidest thing I’d ever said. I wanted to slap my forehead, but I was patting Cassie’s ass and in the absence of complaint from her I’d keep doing that. Still, I’d just threatened her with assault: low-level violence, some sexual content. We still hugged, but she was no longer holding an honourable gentleman.

Cassie didn’t seem to mind that I wasn’t a gentleman. Her eyes widened, but she said, almost without a pause, “Yes, yeah, I know. You should.”

Wicked Wednesday: The shoplifter’s mother 3

Claire was sobbing, overcome by guilt because her husband had abandoned her and her daughter. I got up, and walked over to take her hand. “Claire. Mrs O’Donnell, I doubt very much that you did anything wrong. He walked out on his family. He found a new, more gullible woman. Or he just ran away from his responsibilities. Please know this: it isn’t your fault.”

“But it is! I fucked– I fucked– His friend. I was lonely. I just wanted to be touched, and held. I wanted, well, a man. And he found out about it! Of course he disappeared!”

I took a guess. “But … hadn’t he already left you, when that happened?”

“Yes, of course. But I shouldn’t have! I ruined everything.”

“Claire. If he left you, he has no say on your life. That includes whether you have sex, and who you have sex with. He had no say in that at all. And if he disappeared when he found out you were having sex, that’s absolutely not your fault. It’s not your doing at all”

Claire shook her head. She was still sobbing. “Yes, he’d left me. But he disappeared completely when he found out!”

“Claire, he might have used it as an excuse, but he went missing because he didn’t care enough about his daughter. Or about his other responsibilities. One sexual incident, I mean one fuck, doesn’t cancel that out.”

Though she shook with emotion, she spoke firmly. “I ruined my daughter’s relationship with her father. I ruined everything. She was doing these stupid things because she was upset. She loved her Daddy. I deserve that public caning more than she does.”

“No. She might be upset, but that’s not a license to steal. I’m sorry, but if we find she shoplifted, we’ll cane her. That’s decided. Not you.”

“I was thoughtless.”

“Claire, you were lonely. You’re human.”

“You should punish me.”

“I’m sorry, but if Tara shoplifted she’ll have to pay for that, and she will. You have done nothing wrong. At all. You’re absolutely not at fault, and I’m not going to punish you.”

Claire sniffed, loudly. When she looked up at me, her face streamed with tears.


Masturbation Monday: Masturbation, on a Monday 2

Ngaire’s fingers touched the grooves between her plump labial lips and her inner thighs, and she gasped. 

She said, spitting out the words in short bursts as she squeezed her lips, lightly hen hard, with her fingers and thumbs. “Tell me. About fucking me. Up the arse.” 

She pressed one finger between her lips, now soft and puffy, and pressed downwards. Inwards. Freddie said, “Uh.” He was reacting to her actions, or trying to think of a story.

Ngaire didn’t care which. She put a second finger into her cunt, her two middle fingers, and let them enter all the way. Her palm pressed hard against her cunt. Freddie said, “I walk into your room. You look like you’re asleep. On your stomach. Your ass is up. You are so beautiful. I smack your ass lightly, because I can’t not, and anyway I know you’re only pretending to be asleep.” 

The fingers inside her hooked, to press upwards at spongy skin. She’d once fucked a doctor, who’d told her that spongelike skin was called the anterior vaginal wall. 

It had seemed incongruous; such a technical name for something so live and blooming. She grunted, raising her arse slightly from the bed. Still, men who know words like “anterior vaginal wall” make better lovers. Probably. She wanted to ask Freddie if he knew. But she couldn’t form or speak the necessary words now. 

“I take lube, that lube right there in fact, from beside your bed, and I pour some into the cleft of your ass, so it starts to run down to your little opening. I press my hand against your cunt while you feel the lube running down, and the first drops find your asshole, and gather there. It feels so innocent, but you know it’s to make it easier for you to take my cock.”  

The words reached her. She imagined that, that first entry, not by him but by oil. He probably wouldn’t guess she hadn’t had a cock in her arse before. She’d have to tell him. He’d be all blokey and proud about it, which would be annoying, but he needed to know: “be gentle with me!” She felt the muscles in her legs tautening, and she pressed her palm harder against her sweet, god, so alive, clitoris. She fucked herself harder and faster with her fingers. 

“I lube my forefinger so it’s nice and slippery, and then I slip it into your ass. You’re so tight, and I love thinking about how you’ll feel, those muscles round my cock. We’ll fit so well, my honey, beautiful Ngaire, you on your hands and knees, me covering you, my cock sliding slowly into your asshole.”

Ngaire grunted. Her mouth had opened, though she couldn’t speak, and she felt her stomach muscles tighten. Something was building. Inside her. She brought in her left hand, to rub against her clitoris while her right hand finger-fucked herself. She felt herself slowly fall back to the bed.  

“But you admit me easily, no qualm, no pain, all the way to the first knuckle. Then I press deeper, to the second knuckle. I move my finger inside you, to let you strip lube off it, and slowly withdraw. I put more lube onto my fingers. And I lean down and kiss your sweet ass. I can’t help that, any more than I can help smacking it. Then you feel two fingers at your entrance, slowly pressing, and you suddenly give, you give yourself to me, letting me in. And -“

But Ngaire had rediscovered the power of speech. She said, “Jofff! Ah! Fuuuuck! Fuck! Fuck me!” And that power that had been building inside her burst, from somewhere between her belly and the small of her back. A wave of pleasure and power took her. Shook her. Her face and throat in rictus. She screamed. Oh fuck.

She didn’t stop working at herself, her cunt. She screamed again. And then, a few frantic seconds later, again. She looked up at last, almost embarrassed, to see what Freddie thought.

He was still in his seat, but leaning forward. His face seemed fierce and gentle, at once. He’d been moved. Then he came forward, onto the bed, his body between her thighs, now fallen, spread and relaxed. He kissed her cunt. As though he was in love with it. He babbled, “Good girl, good girl, good girl, oh good girl…”  

Ngaire put her hand, smeared and wet with her own fluids, on the back of his head. 

E(lust) 117, on the way to heaven

Photo courtesy of Master’s Eye

Welcome to Elust 117

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 #118? Start with the rules, come back May 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!


~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

A dominant presence

He Gripped Her Hand and Centered Her

Being alone together.

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

What the fig?

Mind and body

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

O! or, errr… NO!: Orgasm Control in an F/m Dynamic

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Fantasies Never Let You Down
My First Love
New Fun with Old Friends
Sometimes coming joint second
emotional disconnection, sex and loneliness
People Don’t Talk about This Sh!t

Erotic Fiction

Waking the Fallen
opera seria
Catch the Catcher
Club Dress Extended
Dreams … (the Second : Arabian Nights)
The orgasmic arch

Erotic Non-Fiction

The Five Senses of Sex
A public beating
Rope Dreams



Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Primal Regression and Submission
14 Qualities of a “Good” Dominant
Balance in F/m voices


Do I want you to hold my hand?

Body Talk and Sexual Health

Sex in Class
That’s My Kink – All Hail The Nipple Clit

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Why I’m not smiling for IWD


Wicked Wednesday: With a breadknife?

Jennifer had just responded to my warning on language by asking me to fuck her up the arse. It hadn’t been an entirely ladylike way to speak. Heartfelt, though.

I couldn’t help laughing, though she’d also shocked me. “May as well get the strap for a sheep as for a lamb, huh? All right, you’re coming here, not tomorrow but the next day, and you’re going to get the strap hard across your hands, and your bottom.”  

“Thank you, sir.”

“My god. I had no idea you were such a handful. And yes, Jennifer, I would love to teach you to… suck my cock. Among other things. Many other things. But how about we wait a bit, girl? Get to know each other better. And then we’ll decide, all right?”

“I’ve decided, sir. I’m not going to change my mind. I know what I want.”

“All right. You’re coming here to get the strap, after school in two days’ time. You will bring with you an essay on today’s punishment. Think of it as creative writing, but you have to tell the truth. I expect two thousand words. You’ve got two days.” I smacked her bottom again, and then kissed her pouting mouth.

She kissed me back. “I just wish you’d…” But she decided she was in enough trouble.

“We’ll see, Jennifer. To have any chance, you’d best be a good girl. Well, for a while. As much as you can.” Her face fell. “I’m sorry. I was teasing you. You are a very good girl, and I know you try hard.”

“You’re giving me the strap, just for saying I want you.” I smacked her bottom again, but she added, “Want you in me, nice and slow, sir. Then hard and rough and fast.”

“Jennifer, sometimes your steak of mischief will get you into trouble. Another time I might cane you for saying something like that.” She nodded, wide-eyed. “But don’t ever think I don’t like your cheekiness. It’s part of you: I’ll punish you when you go too far, but I’d never want you to lose your mischief. I think it’s very charming.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“That said, your strapping is going to include four across the backs of your thighs, now.” 

“I must be what they call blissed out, sir. I’m sure I’ll be scared when I come to you, to get the strap. But right now, in your arms, sir, everything just feels lovely. You could say you’re going to saw my arm off with a breadknife, and I’d think, oh, that sounds nice.”

I smacked her again, and kissed her. But it was a goodbye kiss. “Off with you, girl. You can get dressed now. And remember, you’ve got two days to write a two-thousand word essay, so you’d best get started as soon as you get home.”

“Can I include this discussion, sir? And what I’m feeling now?”

“Whatever you like. I’ll be marking it for clear, grammatically correct writing. You get points for style. I punish for typos, grammatical errors, and untruth. So… get writing!”

“Sir!” That was an acknowledgement of the order, not the beginning of fresh mischief. She almost fell, getting off my knee, and Maddie darted forward to steady her and lead her over to the clothes rack. 

Two minutes later Jennifer was gone. Maddie looked at me questioningly.

Wicked Wednesday: So do you

Jennifer said nothing, but she raised her bottom further for me. She wanted more stroking and soothing, but more than that as well. Her thighs were as far apart as she could manage, her pussy wet and undeniably wanting.

She’d been close to orgasm for most of her punishment, and though those six last strokes had been challenging they hadn’t overridden the sex, the need of it. So I coated and rubbed her bottom, not gently but firmly, and she gave herself into my hands, sometimes sighing with the sensations she was processing.

At last I touched her pussy again, thumb inside a wet, sopping girl, and my palm against her clitoris. It took her a minute to find her place, where she’d been before the last six strokes, and another thirty seconds of writhing on my hand before she stopped suddenly. I said, “Jennifer, it’s all right, you can come now.”

Her scream was louder than the loudest noise she’d made while being punished. I kept working my thumb and palm. In another minute she came again, at the same intensity. Then her head dropped, hitting the table audibly.

I kept on stroking her, but she was done for now, and exhausted. I let her lie across my desk for a minute, then patted her bottom. Jennifer was extremely sensitive, after eighteen of the best with the slipper, but she was unable to feel any touch as pain. Everything, it seemed, was dreamily erotic.

I said, “Jennifer, I’m going to pick you up. So I have to roll you over.” That was to let her know what I was doing. She was incapable of helping, for the time being. So I rolled her onto her back, and put my arms under her shoulders and the backs of her thighs, and lifted.

I carried her to the leather arm chair and sat down, holding her cradled in my arms. She looked at me with a slight smile, so I kissed her. I hadn’t expected her to respond but she did, not urgently but lovingly. I said, “Maddie, bring a blanket.”

Maddie nodded and opened the door into the storeroom. While she was gone I looked down at Jennifer, naked, dreamy, and beautiful in my arms. “How’s your bottom?”

She pulled a face and then smiled. “It’s weird. I know it’s sore, and very hot. But it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the slippering you gave me yesterday. In fact I’m not even sure that it hurt at all. It’s warm. And it sort of buzzes. But it’s like it’s got a hotline to my cunt. Oh! I shouldn’t say that word! Sorry, sir.”

I smiled. “I don’t think you’ve got room for any more smacks just at the moment. But use language like that again, and I’ll punish you.”

“Can I say pussy? Because I stroke it sometimes.” She looked at me, suddenly pretending to be shy. “And so do you.”