There is approximately six hundred different ideas for erotica blog posts flying around my head this week, but this one is the one that forced itself out of me and on to paper. (Is that expression still relevant when I do almost all of my writing on a laptop.) This filthy story includes corsets, piss and blow jobs.
Today I’m sharing a story that makes me smile every time I think about it. In one wonderful, kinky act, a friend showed me how much he cared about me – removing my anxiety and leaving deep certainty in our deep, platonic friendship.
… now bend me over the kitchen table and beat me with your belt.
Don’t, obviously. Not without my consent. However, if we’ve discussed and negotiated you strapping me, then please – I would love some impact play today. There’s one other thing though, that if you’re going to do any sort of kink or sex with me you need to understand, is that because I’m a submissive woman doesn’t mean I’m not a feminist.
This particular post is inspired by one of Cara Thereon’s tweet, and DomSigns’ response to it. As always, I checked with them before getting my filthy creative juices all over their conversion, but, as always, I expect – or maybe hope – that they were a bit curious as to what filthy thoughts I’d generated from a simple typo. And, as ever, I hope I do not disappoint.
This piece of writing is ridiculously self-indulgent, involving a few of the things that have made me slick my knickers in the last couple of days. I want to be woken up in the middle of the night for sex, I want to be dominated, and I want to be held down and pissed on. I’ve been fantasising about being used and defiled, and this reflects that. I hope that you enjoy seeing where my depraved mind has taken me…