One from the drafts folder; this was originally going to be my Smut Marathon Round 7 entry, but I wasn’t sure if it was close enough to the prompt, so I held it back.
The fruits of my filthy imagination
A tale of black magic masturbation
Lock-picking and cock-sucking; a romance
You said you enjoyed humiliation, forgetting – just for a moment – that you were pouring your heart out to a gleeful sadist. You saw the ideas flicker across his face, quirking the corner of his lips, dilating his pupils.…
Three shakes of their fists, and they both choose ‘paper’. An opening gambit, each hedging their bets, testing the other. Eye contact locked and loaded. Game on.
A strange ability, a voyeurism kink, and a hot lunchtime fuck
A mean machine-cuckqueaning scene
It’s roulette boys, but not as you know it
The story I wish I’d entered into Round 4 of Smut Marathon, instead of the one I actually did
Ruffled skirt flouncing, heels stamping, she dances her valediction to his venomous embrace. Beneath her dress, broken, bitten flesh burns and sways in time to the guitars, her blood pounding in time to the handclaps of her audience and the…
I guess I brought this on myself, in a literal as well as figurative sense. The law says that the template individual is solely responsible for the actions of their clones, no matter which of them actually does the nefarious…