Lock-picking and cock-sucking; a romance
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.
One Rainy Night
You pulled me into the doorway alcove, pinned me against the cold concrete wall and covered my mouth with one hand. Sssshhh you told me, reaching up under my skirt. Silence now.
#Pervember Joker: Spit-roasting
Today’s prompt was “branding” and that’s definitely not one of my kinks (nothing wrong with it between consenting adults of course, just doesn’t do anything for me) so I couldn’t really think of anything to write about it. Instead, I’m playing one of the jokers – something I have always wanted to experience and fantasise about frequently.
Spit-roasting, with its connotations of gluttony and primitivism; myself as nourishment and celebration, as sacrifice and utility.
A choice, perhaps; between the carnal and the alimentary….
CW: this story depicts not-quite-consensual sexual activity.
#Pervember 3: Deep-throating
All the reasons I love a good hard deep mouth-fucking
Extract
For about 12 years now, I’ve been planning to write a novel. It’s a political thriller, set in a dystopian colony on Mars. Finally, I have begun to write, finding that tackling discrete scenes as short stories first is much easier than starting with Chapter One and proceeding chronologically. Here’s an extract from the work so far – if it’s lacking in context or characterisation, I apologise; hopefully once it’s integrated into the end result those flaws will be addressed. If you’re just here for the filth, perhaps you can overlook other shortcomings.
CW: this is a fictional scene depicting a sexual relationship interaction that starts off coercive and non-consensual. If that’s likely to cause you distress, please don’t read any further. Always take care of yourselves and each other.
Test conditions
I’m reviewing a few lubes for www.thefetishfairies.com, and one of my standard tests is to coat my longest, chunkiest dildo (the Fun Factory Tiger) with the test substance then deep-throat it to the point of gagging, to see whether the…
In the cargo hold
Part 3 of The Governor’s Wife tales – you can catch up with the other instalments at the links below
Since the storm, the journey has settled back into hazy lassitude. Repairs were made to torn sails, rigging untangled, items which had been flung into corners by the violence of the waves, repositioned in their rightful places. She kept the rope, feigning unconvinced anxiety to the Captain’s blithe assurances of safety. The skies have cleared. There is no more danger.
Depravation
The note He left me gave clear instructions in His spiky drunken-spider handwriting
Take off your clothes.
Insert the earbuds
Put on the hood.
Present yourself and wait for me.
Keep absolutely still at all times. If you move, you will be punished.
Patience
She is a silent presence behind him. Bound to the chair in the corner, blindfolded, commanded to stillness and quiet; her very presence is a vortex of frantic energy. She wants attention, gratification, sensation, and has yet to learn that these things must be earned.
Friday Night
All week, I have been out of sorts – irritable and uncharitable, my blood full of sharp burrs and my mind skittering from one grievance to the next. An evening of tequila shots with my lover in a London pub…