Wicked Wednesday: Punishment robe

Claire tries on the punishment robe for the first time. Maddie fancies her in it. Some kind of happiness is brewing.

It’s a hot scene, but it’s published now, and publishers don’t like things they publish to be also be available free on the internet.I’ll put up a link to where you can buy a book with this hot scene in it, shortly.

 

 

Masturbation Monday: Arguments for anal sex

Teresa kissed Roland, post-coitally lazy. “You know, if you fed your vampire girl, regularly, with your come, into my body and not into little bags that you throw away, I don’t think I’d have the urge to bite you. And then you could fuck me, face to face, without pushing my face away or tying me down.” 

“I like you tied down.” That was a compliment, one of the odder ones she’d ever been given, but she knew he meant it.

He bit her breast lightly. “And I think you like being tied down, too.”

“Yes, I do. But maybe not every time? You can tie me whenever you like, but it’d be nice to think you trusted me. That you don’t trust me – and I know you’re not completely wrong, given my record – but that’s still … kind of hurtful. ”

“Ok. Then get on the pill tomorrow. And the deal seems to be, at the moment, that we neither of us fuck anyone else. Except with the other’s permission, and then with a condom. All right?”

“Sir!” She said it like a soldier acknowledging an order. Teresa realised she only called Roland sir when she was asking for something, or she was happy with something he’d said. She knew he liked hearing it. In her own way, she thought, she was training him.

“So will you fuck me now? Without you wearing a stupid bag on your cock? I want just your skin and mine together, nothing between us, and your seed when you come in me. Sinking into me. Letting me absorb it. Feeding me. I mean, I’d kind of like that right now, sir.”

Roland shook his head. “I’m still not going to risk you getting pregnant, little Teresa. We’ll still have to wait.”

Teresa kissed Roland’s collarbone, still not quite healed from her bite. “Sir, I can suck your cock. I can swallow your come, taking it all down into me, and it goes through my body. I extract its energy while it’s in my stomach, and what I can’t use passes on into my alimentary canal. And out.”

“You want to suck me off? So that I come in your mouth? And that would feed you? All right.”

“No. I mean, yes, but not right now. That’s not what I want us to do. I’m just pointing out that you don’t have to think only of my cunt. You can fuck me hard, come in me and not get me pregnant. I’m amazed you haven’t taken my arse so far. You obviously like it.”

“I like your arse a lot.”

“So we’ve got the answer, sir, haven’t we? Fuck me up the arse, and I won’t feel I have to feed on your blood. And I won’t keep biting you. Your seed, my lover and my sir’s seed, that’s got to be even stronger than blood.”

Roland stared at her, as if she’d said something strange. Perhaps she had. She could see him waking up from his post-orgasmic stupor.

He said, at last, “You know, you’re right. I come in your perfect arse, and you won’t bite me. So that’s how it’ll be, the very next time.”

“No. Idiot.”

He said, “Idiot?” She glanced at his cock. It was still mostly down, but it was becoming engaged again, starting to take notice and thicken. He noticed her glance.

Teresa still looked at him as if he were a slow child. “Roland, I’m not talking about the future. I’m saying, fuck me up the arse. And come in me. I mean now, sir.” She rolled over and lifted herself onto her hands and knees. As she’d expected, the sight of her, presented, her arse up, inviting and demanding his desire, made the difference she wanted. He woke up.

“Your arse,” he said, “is perfect. And perfectly poised. And you’ve just made the weirdest argument for buttsex I’ve ever heard. But I endorse the no-biting project. Also, your arse has the sexual pull of about a thousand ships, I’d say.”

“So?” Teresa shook that arse at him.

Sinful Sunday: Good girl, bad girl, trick or treat

She’s been a perfectly good girl. And yet, she is there, and stage one has just ended. 

But good girl, bad girl, trickster or treat: who cares? She’s got a gorgeous arse, and she colours beautifully.

Is this a trick or a treat? If you could hear the squeaks while we built up the heat for this photo, you’d probably guess. 

Either way, trick or treat always starts here. Never where it ends, though.

Wicked Wednesday: Pretty stripes on display

One of the best things about taking on a Master, if you’re a submissive, is that you don’ t have to feel guilty for your mistakes. Claire learns this, among other less subtle pleasures.

It’s a hot scene, but it’s published now, and publishers don’t like things they publish to be also be available free on the internet.I’ll put up a link to where you can buy a book with this hot scene in it, shortly. 

Food for Thought Friday: The road not taken

I don’t like saying this, because it’s so unlikeable, but I am scarily intelligent. When I was 11, I was top of the school at Maths by a sufficiently terrifying margin, I’d read all of the surviving dialogues of Plato, and the books attributed to Aristotle, and I’d worked my way through Principia Mathematica and found the joke at theorem 110.643. I’d read more English literature than my English Lit teacher. I’d decided that I was going to be either a poet or a philosopher.

But the girls around weren’t exactly interested in any of that. And I realised, looking at the underside of Debbie Brown’s thigh when she crossed her legs, that I was really, intensely, focussedly interested in girls. So I tried to talk to them more and make friends. And I hoped I’d get a girlfriend, and we could kiss and hug and stuff.   Maybe I could stroke her thighs. 

But I had no small talk at all. I only knew how to talk seriously about big topics. I didn’t watch TV, and barely knew anything about pop music, except that the Beatles had been good, and kind of unusual. I was a Beethoven, Mozart and Wagner guy. I couldn’t dance.  

So I bought a stack of albums so I knew Bowie from Beck, and both from a hole in the ground. I bought some magazines that talked about people on TV as if they were real people, and studied them. I learned to gossip. I had my hair plaited. I learned to say mildly amusing things, without trying to be Oscar Wilde.

It took about a year, because the girls at my school remembered the little professor, and he wasn’t boyfriend material. Also, I still couldn’t manage to pretend interest in sports or belief in any religion, and I sometimes let it slip that I thought both were boring and stupid.

So my first girlfriend was a new girl, who’d just transferred from another school. I made some missteps, like taking her to a film society screening, but next time we went to the beach. And she, bless her soul, taught me to kiss, which was a head-spinning sexual revelation.

And she taught me how to be interested in everything she thought and felt. So I was 13, with a girlfriend.

I should say that it’s not that I thought girls were dumber than me. It was that my IQ was off the charts. At that school, everyone was dumber than me. But I didn’t care about the guys. I know that saying so is not very likeable. 

So I had transformed myself from an intellectual who was never going to get laid, or at least not for years, into some sort of would-be hipster, who was obviously faking it but who could usually more or less pass. There were rewards, obviously. Sexual desire has always been the most important motivation in my life, and the new version of me, the new guy, got laid.

But there were costs, too. I had to hide, or at least tuck away, quite a lot of who I was and what interested me. At university I had a lot of wonderful sexual adventures, but not marks that identified me as all that smart. 

I don’t think I regret the self-transformation. But who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t done it?

I think I’d have spiralled further away from people, becoming more and more eccentric. And maybe become famous for solving some abstruse intellectual problem. I can’t imagine which one, now. I’m not that man. 

 

Wicked Wednesday: Message received

Claire learns that a Master’s forgiveness is self-forgiveness and a kind of psychological relief acquired through kinky pleasure.

It’s a hot scene, but it’s published now, and publishers don’t like things they publish to be also be available free on the internet.I’ll put up a link to where you can buy a book with this hot scene in it, shortly.

Masturbation Monday: Taking his full weight

In Roland’s bed, Teresa rested her bottom on the sheets, finding the heat and slight soreness from her spanking unexpectedly pleasant, and lay back. Roland was only seconds behind her, and he said nothing. He lifted her knees and then parted them, his body pressing urgent between her thighs.

He still said nothing as he entered her, not slowly or gently. He fucked her energetically though warily, pushing her head to the side whenever she got her teeth too close to his chest.

Pleasure built within her, steadily and then suddenly, so she felt as if she’d been caught by a huge wave and she knew no way of getting down safely before it crested.

She opened her eyes, head resting back on the pillow, and gazed at him almost in terror.

Something gave in her, then, with Roland still riding her hard, held firmly by her thighs, his hand on her mouth to stop her from biting. Teresa struggled against him, making frantic, incoherent noises. He grazed her nipples with his teeth, and when that sensation reached her cunt and her brain she came. Her mouth wrenched open and she cried her orgasm syllables, “Tard ah! Ahh! Kit too!”

Roland grunted, as if he were pleased with her and himself, and sped up, while Teresa still felt aftershocks, a series of smaller orgasms. He tensed, making his own high-pitched sound through his nose when he came. They lay together, Teresa taking his full weight on her body, looking up at him tenderly and hoping to find that tenderness reflected back at her.

But Roland still had his hands under her arse, holding her tight and still moving in her. He was spent but not yet tender. At last he slipped them out and used them to support himself. Teresa took a deep breath, now that she could.

He smiled down at her. There it was: tenderness. Her heart was still pounding.

At last he rolled off her and lay on his back. Teresa took another hard breath, to celebrate, and let it out slowly. She kissed his shoulder. They were peaceful, and they had nothing to say. She turned onto her side and curled towards him, her leg over his, for comfort and possession. 

Sinful Sunday: Stay!

“No, of course I haven’t finished dealing with you. Stay where you are until I call you. And if you let that cane fall?”

“I’ll get double, Master?” 

“At least. And the same again tomorrow. So… don’t. Just stand still and wait.” 

She was learning, the hard way, that I wouldn’t accept her not telling me an assignment is due, and then missing the deadline. She’d do the assignment after punishment, and she’d hand it in, though lateness meant it would only be marked out of 80%.

And she’d be sitting very uncomfortably while she did the work. 

As usual I pretended to do other things, but really I just watched her. The beauty of her submission, and the bright blush of her well-spanked ass. She made my living room beautiful. 

Love had everything to do with it. But love sometimes hurts. 

E(lust): Simple as 123!

Elust 123

Photo courtesy of Deviant Succubus

Welcome to Elust 123

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

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Bittersweet Symphony

Breast cancer awareness – check your boobs

The devil is in the detail…

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Metamorphosis: Fat, Fit and In Between

Contraception- life without birth control

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!

Erotic Non-Fiction

Take It To The Limit
Marshmallows
Spank me Red
Custom Made Cuckold Porn

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Control
The Image (1975): The Celluloid Dungeon
Return to CMnf
Latex for the Curious – Catsuits
Negotiating a stunt cock
Ruby Ring Piece
13 reasons why I love play parties
You Got a Piercing Where?

Erotic Fiction

Alice’s Minotaur: A Ravishment Tale
Shadow of You
Punished
The Jealous Wife
What we both want
Rugby world cup I only care about the fucking
The Red Thread
Frigid

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Loosing My Virginity
5 things that encourage Dominance
My Happy Place is an 80s (Sex) Mansion

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Sex Work – How My Views Have Changed
Golden Brown

Body Talk and Sexual Health

Paradise Lost – Vale Sir Lust
My Nexplanon Implant Story: The Procedure
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