Masturbation Monday: “Punishment For Touching”

There’s a back-story to this one. I was a bad girl, and as such I earned a punishment. Mr CK tasked a pretty girl we’re going to be playing with soon to come up with the punishment. Her task for me was to write a piece of erotica about caning… and then read it aloud while being caned. While she watched on cam. So that’s exactly what I did.

Please enjoy the piece I wrote as part of my punishment.

A red and white candy cane. For a Masturbation Monday story about a girl being punished by caning.I hate the cane. Hate it hate it hate it. I love pain, but the thuddy, dull kind – the vicious bite and sting of the cane is something else. That’s why it’s saved for when I’ve been really bad. I knew I was in for it when he caught me with my fingers in my knickers after being strictly ordered not to touch. However much  protested – that it had only been a moment, that it was really his fault for keeping me so cruelly denied – he hauled me into the bedroom telling me I needed the disobedience beating out of me. Which brings me to now – watching him take the evil implement of pain off the hook on the door and give it a couple of test-swings.

“Get your knickers off and bend over”. I squeak. “It’s no use whimpering. Hurry up”. Damn, I wish his orders didn’t make me so wet. My body is beginning to betray me. I peel my knickers off and step out of them and bend over the bed, resting on my elbows, ass pointing up – small and vulnerable. He runs his hand over my ass.

“You know why you’re in trouble, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why?”

“Because I touched my cunt without permission, Sir.”

“And sluts don’t get to touch their cunts without permission, do they?”

“No, Sir.”

“Five strokes, and I’m not going to go easy on you.”

He brings the cane down on my ass. I let out a squeal of pain. Fuck, it hurts! I bury my face in the bed and whimper pathetically. The second stroke lands in the exact same spot. I yelp.

“Aw. Did that hurt?” I nod furiously. “Good. That’s because it’s a punishment. Three more to go.”

CRACK.

The third stroke makes me scream, the sound muffled by the mattress. I hate it. I hate it so much. So why am I so wet I feel like I’m going to drip all over the floor?

WHACK.

The fourth stroke brings tears to my eyes, but my cunt is wetter than ever.

CRACK.

The fifth stroke is the hardest. The tears spill over, staining the sheet. My ass is on fire.

“Aww, are you crying?” I nod. “You’ll behave next time then, won’t you?”

Without warning, he shoves his fingers between my legs and into my cunt.

“Don’t. Fucking. Come.”

That’s when I realise the punishment is far from over.

Masturbation Monday is created and owned by Kayla Lords. Click the logo to see what’s getting everyone off this week.

If you enjoyed this story, you can get bonus erotic fiction every Tuesday by signing up to my Patreon page at any level.

Image sourced through Pixabay.

Masturbation Monday: “Fluff”

Content note: this one contains cuckquean fantasy and pretty intense sexual degredation. All parties in this scenario are consenting adults.

A black and white close up of a padlock and claim on the door of a cage. For a Masturbation Monday story called FluffI never know quite who he’s going to bring home. His tastes are wide and varied. One week, a curvaceous redhead covered in tattoos. The next, a tall, slender girl with boobs to die for. Yet another week, the one who looked like she’d stepped out of a 1950s pin-up centrefold. I think he likes to keep me guessing as well as keep things interesting for himself.

A surprising number of women go for what he’s offering… I think it’s because he goes for the more Dominant ones who relish the idea of tormenting a stupid little fucktoy like me.

I hear the door go, and hold my breath. Yes, definitely two of them. I count the steps as they come up the stairs, my heart beating faster. I’ve been locked in my cage in the corner of our bedroom, naked except for my steel chastity belt, all evening – as I always am when he goes out to find someone to fuck. A short distance away, the key sits – for emergencies only, of course, in case the house catches fire or something.

If you ever use it when it’s not an emergency, I will know,” he warned me each time he locked me in. “And you’ll be in for a world of punishment.” I never do. I like sitting here, my cunt getting wetter and wetter with anticipation, waiting for him to come home.

The door opens. He comes in first, my ridiculously beautiful Master, his long hair released from its ponytail and his tie loosened. She follows, and I exhale as I get my first glimpse of her. She’s a brunette, petite, only up to his shoulder even in her heels, her little red dress – the same shade as her lipstick – showing off every inch of fabulous curves.

“Such a good pet, waiting in its cage for you to get home,” she coos, looking over at me. “Is it really going to watch while you fuck me?”

“Mm-hmm. It likes it, too.”

My cunt pulses. I love the objectification of being referred to like this, spoken of not as her but as it. My locked-up hole clenches again when I watch my husband – my Master – grab this beautiful woman and kiss her passionately. She moans into his mouth. His hands find their way first to her breasts, squeezing and massaging, and then to her ass, pulling her in closer to him. I’m not jealous. I know it’s me he really loves, and he only does this because of how much it turns us both on. But god, I’m envious when he pulls up her dress, slides a hand between her legs and rubs her. My own cunt hasn’t felt anything but cold, unrelenting steel for weeks.

She moans, writhing against his touch. He kisses her again. She must hear my whimper, because she giggles and breaks away from him, coming over to my cage.

“When I worked in porn, we had staff whose job was to get the guys hard before they fucked. They called them fluffers.” She kneels before the cage, looking in at me through the bars, turning her attention from my Master to me. “What do you think, little fucktoy? Want to fluff your husband so he can fuck me while you watch?”

I look at her, wide-eyed, and then glance at Master. I am not allowed to speak unless given permission.

“You may speak. Respectfully.”

“Yes please, Miss.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

“Ask nicely,” she taunts. “Maybe we’ll even let you out of that cage if we do a good enough job. On second thoughts, no. Pathetic cunts don’t get their pathetic holes played with.”

I look imploringly up at my Master, who has moved over to stand beside his new friend. “Please, Master, can I suck your cock until it’s hard enough for you to fuck Miss?”

“What do you think?” she asks him.

“Well, since it asked so nicely…” he unzips the fly of his jeans and pulls out his cock. It’s semi-erect already. He shoves it between the bars of the cage, and I open my mouth eagerly to receive it. I take him deeply into my throat, whimpering quietly, flicking my tongue over the head of his cock, gradually teasing it to full erection. God, I could suck his cock all day.

Her hand slips into the cage and between my legs, rubbing the steel of my belt right over my clit. Of course, I can’t feel a thing. I whine and hump her hand, is if it’s going to make any difference. My belted cunt drips.

“Pathetic,” she says again. “Poor little creature, so horny from sucking its Master’s cock. Knowing it’s not going to get aaaaany release at all.” She turns to him. “Has it got your cock nice and hard?”

“Oh yeah. It’s got a talented tongue, that’s why I keep it around.”

She grabs his hand. “Then come and stick that hard cock in my tight little cunt while it watches.”

Masturbation Monday is created and owned by Kayla Lords. Click the link to see what’s getting everyone off this week.

If you enjoyed this story, you can get bonus erotic fiction every Tuesday by signing up to my Patreon page at any level.

Image sourced through Pixabay.

Masturbation Monday: “Charity Dinner”

[Inspired by Exhibit A and his suit-porn.]

A man's body in a suit and tie. For a masturbation monday post about a charity dinnerHe looks so fucking hot in his suit.

Truth be told, I hate these stuffy, fancy dinners. Disgustingly wealthy people bidding huge amounts of money for shit they don’t actually want (just donate the fucking money, Bob, God) and food that is always mediocre at best, considering the price-tag. But this is Richard’s work, and I know it’s important to him, so I put on the flouncy cocktail dress and curl my hair and play the dutiful wife, hanging on his arm and sipping Prosecco and charming people I don’t care about who bore the knickers off me.

Well, they would if I was wearing any.

The one good thing about all this, as I said, is that my husband looks fucking gorgeous in his suit. From our wedding to nights out at sex clubs (because what good upstanding Finance Director doesn’t have a sordid secret life!?) to these dinners we occasionally have to endure, whenever he puts it on, I just want to swoon into a puddle at his feet.

I decided in the shower that I was going to make this evening a bit more interesting. So no-one knows that, underneath my demure dress and stockings – below the knee, not too sheer – I’m not wearing panties and I’ve got kegel balls shoved inside my cunt. No-one except my husband, of course. And something tells me he’ll be taking full advantage before the night is up.

He whispers in my ear as we take our places for dinner.

“Every time I squeeze your leg or your hand, you’re going to squeeze your cunt around those balls. Got it?” I nod, my face impassive. “Good. Don’t let on.”

We’re seated. There’s small-talk. I’m introduced to some important client or other, sitting across the table.

“My wife, Kate.” As I reach out to shake hands, Richard’s hand slips under the tablecloth and gives my leg a little squeeze. I clench my cunt against the balls filling me up, making sure I keep my face neutral. Fuck. It feels so good.

Starter is served. Squeeze. Clench. He does it every few minutes, just enough to keep me desperately aroused but nowhere near enough to bring me close to any sort of release. I try not to squirm in my seat and to concentrate on the conversation going on around me. I keep my eyes mostly on my food, pretend I’m shy. I’m not shy, I’m just too fucking horny to concentrate on anything else?

“More wine, Kate?”

Squeeze. Fuck.

I proffer my glass, trying to keep it steady as Richard’s boss refills it, and squeeze my cunt obediently against the damn balls.

Main course comes. He’s fully toying with me now, this sadistic beautiful man by my side, never pausing from his conversation even as he reduces me to a flustered mess next to him. My cunt’s dripping. I worry I’m staining the chair beneath me.

By the time dessert appears in front of me, I think I’m going to scream if I don’t get my release soon. It takes all my strength not to start humping the air like the ridiculous horny slut I am. Richard is now holding my hand on the table and surreptitiously squeezing it every few seconds. Bastard.

I hit the edge. A few more seconds and I’ll come, right here at this table in front of these suited strangers. Fuuuuuck. I drop my dessert fork and it hits the floor with a loud clatter, causing everyone on the table to look at me. I blush bright red and start to duck under the table to retrieve it, but a waiter has already rushed over with a new one for me.

“You’re so clumsy, darling,” Richard says. “Have you had too much wine?” To everyone else it looks like gentle, loving ribbing. But I see the flash in his grey eyes and I know exactly what he’s thinking. He’s got me right where he wants me.

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. I look at him pleadingly. Please don’t do this. A harder squeeze, telling me to be good, to not let him down now.

I clench as hard as I can. It’s enough. I come, my cunt spasming around the hard silicone balls. I cross my legs, feeling the gush of wetness running out of me, biting my tongue to hold in the moan and trying not to make my squirming too obvious.

Richard leans forward to better hear the conversation on the other side of the table. No-one but me can read the self-satisfied smirk playing around the corner of his lips. He’s pleased with me. And I know that as soon as we get home, the kegel balls in my cunt are going to be replaced by his cock.

Masturbation Monday is created and owned by Kayla Lords. Click the link to see what’s getting everyone off this week.

If you enjoyed this story, you can get bonus erotic fiction every Tuesday by signing up to my Patreon page at any level.

Image sourced through Pixabay.

 

Masturbation Monday: “Take It For Me”

Dedicated to Jadis, whose awesome and filthy mind provided the inspiration for this one.

A close up of a woman lifting her shirt to show her large breasts.“Girls!” His voice booms through the house. I look up from my laptop and in a second, I’m out of work-mode and into ‘Sir’s calling’ mode. I hop up from my desk and dash downstairs in the direction of the living room, where his voice came from. Kitten appears behind me a moment later, the bell of her collar jingling. Her sleepy eyes, knickers-and-tank-top attire and mussed-up hair tell me she’s just been roused from a nap. Sir looks at us both, one eyebrow raised in his best ‘unimpressed face’.

“What’s this?”He gentures towards the sofa, where a purple silicone dildo – clearly stained from the juices of one excited girl or another – has appeared.

A beat. I glance at Kitten.

“I told you both very clearly that you could play with each other this morning while I was at work, but that I expected to see all the toys cleaned and neatly put away when I got back.”

“In my defence, Sir,” Kitten speaks up in her soft voice, “Alice said she’d put them all away! And I believed her. So it’s not really my fault.”

Bitch, I mouth at her, though lovingly.

“Is that so?” Sir asks. His eyes flick to me. “Is that accurate, Slut?”

“Well… I mean… yes, I suppose, but…”

“I was very clear with you both, and as the Alpha submissive it really is your responsibility to make sure my instructions are carried out. But since she was so quick to land you in trouble, you get to choose if you’ll take the punishment yourself, or have Kitten take it for you”.

I smirk. The perks of being one above her in the household hierarchy. “I think she can take it for me.”

“As you wish. Kitten, get those panties off and get that sexy ass over the sofa.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. She was so sure she’d escaped without punishment by dropping the blame on me! Silly slut. Any guilt I feel is assuaged by how wet her little squeak makes my cunt.

“Hurry up, Kitten.”

She throws a pouty look in my direction, then reluctantly slips out of her white lace knickers. Judging by the smell of her cunt, she’s already getting a little drippy. She might protest, but Sir and I both know she loves the punishment.

Kitten kneels on the floor, face buried in the sofa cushion, pert little ass sticking up into the air. Just begging to be reddened. I sit on the sofa beside her and lean down so my face is close to hers, stroke her hair gently.

“Are you going to be a good girl and take my punishment for me?” I ask her, just a hint of sadistic cruelty in my voice. A muffled whimper in return.

Sir strokes her butt gently, and then lands the first smack. Her body jerks. Another slap, then another, and Sir falls into his rhythm, spanking her in earnest. The little jiggle of her adorable ass and the cute whimpers she makes with each strike have got me so fucking wet that I can feel my arousal starting to soak my panties under my jeans.

A particularly hard spank makes Kitten’s head jerk up and she lets out a squeal of pain. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost. Mostly I just feel really fucking turned on.

“Ssshh, good girl,” I murmur, stroking her cheek. “Take it for me, Kitten. You can do it.” Just to emphasise that she doesn’t really have much of a choice, I take her slender wrists in one of my hands and pin her down firmly by them.

“She looks so gorgeous with a red arse,” Sir says to me over the top of our whimpering mess of a girl.

“I bet she’s really wet, too,” I say. “I can smell her cunt from here.”

Sir pauses spanking her just long enough to dip his fingers between Kitten’s slightly parted legs. They come out soaking.

“Filthy girl. She likes this.” He rubs her juices into the crack of Kitten’s ass, making her squeal, before he resumed the rhythmical spanking, harder than before.

“Can I play with her cunt while you spank her, Sir?”

“No. This is a punishment. She’s not supposed to get off from it. Besides, you two had more than enough fun playing with each other’s cunts this morning. Isn’t that how you got yourselves into this trouble in the first place?”

Kitten lets out a frustrated whine. Her ass is getting redder and redder, but her noises are changing. Her high-pitched squeaks have changed to low moans. She’s absolutely loving this, the little slut.

“You’re such a good girl, taking all this for me,” I tell her. “Poor girl. We’re so cruel to you, aren’t we?” Her panting and moans are all the reply I need.

“Ten more,” Sir says, “and they’re going to be hard ones. Count them for me.”

SLAP.

“One,” Kitten murmurs.

SLAP.

“Two.”

SLAP SLAP.

“Three… four…”

I can tell she’s starting to struggle now, her body fighting between the pleasure and the pain. But she’s being such a good girl, taking it all for me. For us.

SLAP.

“Five!”

I pet her hair, tell her she’s a good girl, my pretty kitty.

SLAP SLAP SLAP

“Six… seven… eight…”

SLAP

“Nine!”

SLAP

“Ten! Thank you Sir,” she gasps. He strokes her ass, reddened and decorated with his hand-prints. Then he moves to sit on the sofa on the other side of her and pulls her in for a cuddle. He strokes her hair and kisses her forehead as she purrs contentedly in his lap. I hold her hand and squeeze. We all lie entangled for a long time, letting Kitten come down from her sub-space in her own time.

After a while, Sir passes Kitten over to me and rises. He leaves the room and returns a minute or so later, holding a wooden spoon.

“Hey, Kitten?” he says.

She looks up from my lap. “Yes, Sir?”

“You can have your revenge on Alice now if you like.” He offers her the spoon. A grin breaks over her face as she sits up and takes it from him.

“Bend over,” she tells me.

Fuck.

Masturbation Monday is a project created and owned by Kayla Lords. This week’s image is by Violet Fawkes. If you enjoyed this story, you can sign up to my Patreon at any level to enjoy exclusive new patron-only erotic fiction every Tuesday. Click the logo to see what everyone else is getting off on this week…

 

#SoSS 24 March 2018: Eroticon Edition

#SoSS or #ShareOurShitSaturday comes from a call to action by the fabulous Girl on the Net, calling on all those who love the work of sex-positive creators (writers, bloggers, photographers, artists, educators) to share our work (“share our shit”) far and wide. This is particularly important in the wake of Facebook deleting accounts, Twitter shadow-banning, and Instagram shutting down anything with “BDSM” or “sex” in the name.

For a lot of us, this work is both our passion and the way we make our living. We show up day in, day out, often for peanuts in terms of financial reward, because we believe in the content we make and we know the content we put out into the world has a positive impact on our readers.

Of course, supporting us with your £££ is amazing if you can, but sharing our shit is a way that you can support us without it costing you a penny. So, in the spirit of #SoSS, here’s an Eroticon-themed roundup of some of my favourite content from across the blogosphere this week…

1. A Pub Gang -Bang by Tits & Test Tubes

This post-Eroticon fantasy scene has got it all – group sex, humiliation, spanking and more. It’s so, so good… and makes me even happier because I’m kinda in it. (No, I’m not telling you which character I am, you can use your imagination). Jadis is a serious up-and-coming talent in the sex blog-o-sphere.

2. I Lost My Sexuality for a Year by Miss Eve E

This is a stunning, personal and powerful account of Eve’s last year of pain and illness, and how that affected her sexual desire. Her experience really shows how so much of the medical world doesn’t take sexuality – or sexual side-effects of pain and medication – seriously. But it’s untimately a story of hope, as she talks about how Eroticon helped her to reclaim her sexuality and she will continue to do so in 2018. Really important.

3. What I Took Home from Eroticon by John Brownstone

A lovely piece on the nature and importance of community. I loved meeting JB, who together with his wife Kayla makes up the powerhouse duo behind Loving BDSM. He’s just as warm, friendly and fun in person as he is on the podcast, and this piece really speaks to me as someone who felt very alone until I finally found my community and my people.

4. Eroticon 2018: Ten Things… by The Other Livvy

A great piece from Livvy about the things she took away from Eroticon this year. Features a Star Wars joke, a lovely comment on my ridiculous Saturday night outfit, a hot-as-fuck vac bed picture, some lovely quotes, and a #SinfulSunday picture that I took.

5. Learning Post #Eroticon by Cara Thereon

Some beautiful words from Cara about the things she learned and took away from Eroticon. I loved meeting Cara – she’s lovely, smart and insightful and the piece she read out on Sunday was hot as fuck. She talks about learning about herself, facing her fears, and becoming more enmeshed in the community. I look forward to whatever she does next!

And that’s it for this week, folks. There were so many brilliant post-‘Con pieces that really spoke to me and you can read them all here. This is just a small selection of my personal favourites.

Have a great week, and don’t forget: if you like our work, SHARE IT!

Ten Things I Learned at Eroticon

It’s over for another year! Eroticon, the event that changed my life last year (which I drunkenly told Girl on the Net on Saturday night) has been and gone yet again, and WHAT a time it was!

My body in a very sexy PVC catsuit, from Eroticon 2018[Pictured: The Catsuit of Joy.]

1. I’ve been undervaluing myself, financially.

I went to two sessions on making money from blogging, one from Kayla Lords and one from The Sarahs (Sarah Bryn Holliday and Sarah-Jane). Through these amazing sessions and chats with other bloggers I admire, I realised that I’ve been undervaluing my work and not charging enough for what I do. I’m resolving to change this and ask for what I’m worth from now on!

2. Age Verification under the DEB doesn’t apply to written content.

I attended a brilliant session on legal tips for sex bloggers from lawyer Neil Brown. Much of this, unsurprisingly, was focused on the Digital Economy Bill, which may or may not take effect later this year if the government gets its act together and works out what the fuck’s going on with it. Though, of course, throwing the whole thing out would be better!

Turns out at age verification, should it be implemented, will not apply to purely text-based sites. This will be a relief for a lot of us. However, the rules around images will still affect loads of bloggers, and this bill is still utterly horrifying and we should be doing everything in our collective power to get it overturned.

3. Turns out there are circumstances under which loud, crowded bars are fun for me.

And those circumstances involve “three or more sex bloggers” and “copious amounts of wine.”

4. I can say no when I need to and it’s okay.

Being the lucky girl I am, I had two offers of kisses from utterly delightful people whom I would be honoured to make out with. I declined on the basis of having not negotiated spontaneous ‘Con make-outs with Mr CK (note to self: negotiate that next year!!!) The same with a lovely offer to spank a gorgeous arse. On all occasions, everyone was 100% fine with my boundaries and lovely interactions continued!

I wish the same could be said for random dudes in bars who seem to think that a sexy outfit is an invitation to circle back around every 15 minutes or so and try their luck again. Speaking of which…

5. I look DAMN fine in a catsuit

Have you ever walked through a bar full of unsuspecting vanillas in a PVC catsuit, leather ears and high boots? If you haven’t, I recommend it. The glance, followed by the double-take and the head turn, is quite something.

Thank you to all the Eroticon babes who were so complimentary of my slightly OTT but utterly fabulous outfit choice.

6. Podcasting is a blast 

I got to record an episode of Loving BDSM with Kayla and JB, and it was an absolute blast! I had SO MUCH FUN and we laughed so much. And yes, we had coffee while we were doing it.

7. How to give responsible sex advice.

This was the title of a brilliant session I attended run by Meg-John Barker and Justin Hancock, the powerhouse duo behind Enjoy Sex (How When and If You Want To) and their fantastic sex education website.

In this session I learned about self-care when giving advice, about setting boundaries around advice giving, about how to advise someone when the asker is being a dick, and about knowing the limitations of your own expertise and “credentials” (not that such things meaningfully exist in this field). It was SO good and I feel much more confident in my own advice-giving, both on and off this website, as a result.

8. Even the most awesome and accomplished people sometimes feel insecure.

Hearing bloggers and writers and creators I really admire, those who inspire me every day, talk about their own struggles with imposter syndrome and not feeling good enough was weirdly comforting. We’re all a little insecure in our own way. We all occasionally feel like we don’t know what we’re doing. But actually, our work has tremendous value and each of us brings amazing and unique perspectives to the table. Our brains are lying to us. We’re brilliant.

9. I am enough.

Being at Eroticon, and especially hanging out with the of ridiculously awesome people I spent a lot of time with, makes me feel profoundly accepted in a way I’ve rarely experienced anywhere else. It’s okay that I’ve been having a bad mental health time. It’s okay that I haven’t achieved all of my goals yet. I am accepted and I am enough.

10. Your words can change the world

Finishing, as I did last year, with some words of wisdom from Girl on the Net.

Let’s change the world together, babes.

If you’re a reader who would like to support me in continuing to attend events like Eroticon, please consider becoming a Patron, buying me a coffee, or shopping with my affiliates in the right hand sidebar.

If you’re a company who would like to hire me, please email coffeeandkink69 (at) gmail (dot) com and we’ll talk.

Masturbation Monday: “Polish”

A filthy quickie for Masturbation Monday today, inspired by Sub Bee’s kinky boots…

She likes me to polish her boots.

It’s one of the ways I show my service. We go to the club, and she lounges on one of the comfy leather couches chatting with her friends and drinking a glass of wine, while I kneel at her feet and use a soft cloth and the inky black polish to shine the leather so brightly I can almost see my face reflected in it.

Occasionally she’ll pet my hair while I work, tell me I’m a good boy. Sometimes, she’ll loan out my services to another Mistress – or a Master. I’m as straight as they come, but something about serving a well-dressed Dominant man just gets me hard as fuck. I think it’s feeling inferior, knowing they’re so much better than me… they get to walk around in their smart suits, drink their wine and fuck the beautiful women they’re surrounded by, while I’m only good enough to sit naked on the floor and polish their boots.

Tonight, I’m in my usual spot at her feet. My work is finished, her leather boots gleaming, but Mistress pays little attention to me, except to occasionally glance down to make sure I’m still in the correct position – hands clasped, kneeling with legs slightly parted, my erection sticking out embarrassingly for all to see. I am supposed to keep my eyes on the ground but I occasionally steal a quick look up at her, this beautiful goddess who owns me.

Without missing a beat in her conversation, she reaches the toe of her newly-polished boot towards me and strokes it up and down my hard cock. Once. Twice. Three times. She gets into a rhythm, absentmindedly rubbing her boot against me while I quiver and try to control my reactions.

The stroking of her booted foot against my cock, coupled with the sweet scent of leather and polish and the humiliation of being otherwise ignored, is almost unbearably erotic. I hear myself groaning. My cock strains towards her teasing foot of its own accord, so hard it aches. I can’t help but thrust my hips, trying to get more purchase for my throbbing cock against her boot. Fuck, it feels good!

I know I’m supposed to ask permission.

Mistress…’

Still she doesn’t even look at me, but it’s too late, too late. My cock has a mind of its own. With a loud, guttural moan, I release, my come splashing all over her beautiful boots.

At last she looks at me, first my red cheeks then my now limp cock, then she lifts her foot to inspect the sight of her boot covered in my jizz. ‘Oh dear, slave, look what a mess you’ve made of my boots. You’re going to have to polish them all over again.’

I retrieve my cleaning cloth, burning with embarrassment but glowing with happiness.

Masturbation Monday was created by Kayla Lords. Click the logo to see who else is writing about kinky boots this week.

Masturbation Monday: “Ask Nicely”

A nude woman lying on her side, apparently asleep, on a bed with white sheets.I’m not usually allowed to wear clothing in the house. He says it covers up my pretty body, which should be readily accessible to him at all times. The only exceptions to this rule are when I’m cold and I ask permission to wear a robe to keep me warm, or when he wants me to wear something in particular that’s appealing to him. After several years of this protocol, nudity has come to feel like my natural state. It’s when he tells me to put something on that I know fun things are about to happen.

He kisses me awake, first my eyelids then my lips. My eyes flutter open. I smell hot coffee.

‘Hello, pet.’

‘Good morning, Sir,’ I say sleepily.

‘You’re going to drink your coffee, then you’re going to go and put those pretty knickers on for me. You know the ones I like – the black lace.’ My cunt twinges and I feel a knot of excitement growing in my belly. This sounds like a very promising prelude to something.

I sip my coffee leisurely while I allow my mind to wander to what might be on Sir’s mind. My cunt is getting ridiculously wet already. Sir always tells me it’s embarrassing how drippy I get. I tell him it’s because he won’t let me touch it without permission, and at least half the times I ask for permission he tells me no. Then he laughs at me and calls me a silly desperate slut and reminds me that he’ll lock it away in a chastity belt if he ever catches me touching it without permission. I don’t. The ache is hard, but disappointing him would be a thousand times worse.

I swing my legs out of bed and pad over to the chest of drawers, pluck out the requested knickers and slip them over my hips, smoothing the lace over my ass. I also pull my hair out from its ponytail and shake it out over my shoulders. Sir likes it loose and flowing – more to grab on to, he says.

He comes back in just as I’m admiring my reflection in the full-length mirror.

‘Yes, you’re gorgeous,’ he agrees, looking at me approvingly from across the room. ‘Now get over here and get on your knees.’

I scurry across the room and fall to my knees at his feet. He strokes my hair, tells me I’m a good girl, his pretty kitty. I melt.

He moves behind me and I hear him grabbing something from the drawer where we keep our toys. I know better than to turn around and see what he’s doing. I feel him crouch behind me, brush my hair aside and kiss my neck. A shiver runs down my spine and through my body. My nerves are taut, waiting. Fuck. This man knows how to play my reactions like an instrument.

The rope encircles my left wrist. He ties it off in a quick single-column and then secures it fast to my ankle. The right side gets the same treatment. I test the bonds, just to make quite sure I can’t wriggle out of them.

‘Keep still, slut.’

He moves back to stand before me. Grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls me by it into the kneeling-up position. Kisses me hard. I moan against his mouth, entirely taken. Entirely his. God, I’m dripping. I must be staining the pretty panties and probably the carpet beneath me, too.

He releases me. I watch, sure that my hunger is evident in my face, as he unbuttons his jeans and lets his hard cock spring free.

‘You want this?’ he asks, gently stroking it with one hand, inches from my face. I nod furiously. ‘Of course you do, cock-loving slut that you are. You’re going to have to ask really nicely though.’

‘Please can I have your cock, Sir?’

‘Where do you want it?’

‘In my mouth, Sir.’

‘Mmmm, are you sure you don’t just want to watch me get myself off over your lovely body?’

I shake my head. ‘No, Sir. Please let me suck your cock and serve you, Sir.’

With his free hand, he grabs one of my protruding nipples and twists it painfully. I squirm in my restraints. The other nipple gets the same treatment. I let out a squeak of pain. I am sure I see his hand grip his cock more tightly, stroking faster.

He laughs lightly. ‘Poor slut. It must be torture watching me wank in front of you, knowing your hands are tied and you can’t get what you want so much?’

‘Please, Sir…’

‘Mmm, I like it when you beg. But no.’

I whimper. It is, as he correctly identified, torture having his beautiful cock so close to me and not being allowed to touch it or suck it the way I want to.

‘Today I’m just going to use you as a decorative toy to get off over.’

He strokes his cock harder. He moans and I watch the way his body tenses as he brings himself closer to orgasm. Then his hand is in my hair again, dragging my mouth to his, the kiss swallowing the sound he makes when he comes. His tongue finds its way into my mouth as I feel his come splash over my breasts.

He pulls back and looks down at me, a wicked smile on his lips. ‘Filthy girl. Let’s get you untied and in the shower.’ A final kiss. ‘Maybe you’ll be lucky enough to get my cock in your mouth next time.’

Masturbation Monday is a meme started by Kayla Lords. Click the badge below to see what other smutty treats folks have got for you this week. If you enjoyed this piece, consider supporting me on Patreon – there’s bonus smut there every Tuesday for patrons at all levels, which will sometimes be related to my MM post and sometimes be a stand-alone. This week’s image is by Molly Moore and shared with permission as part of Masturbation Monday.

Ten Things I’m Taking TO Eroticon

Many of you may remember last year’s Ten Things I Took Home From Eroticon blogging meme started by the lovely Jenny. Well, I decided to turn it on its head and, with just a week and a half to go until this year’s ‘Con, tell you a little about ten things I’m planning on taking with me this year.

1. My name

Last year’s Eroticon, I wasn’t Amy Norton yet. I was using a haphazard mix of my kink scene name, a diminutive of my legal name, and just ‘Coffee&Kink’/’CK’. I’d toyed with different names but none of them felt quite right.

This year, though, I’m comfortably sitting in this identity (so much so that select people in my offline life now call me Amy, and I love it).

Hi. I’m Amy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

2. A schedule

Last year, I pretty much went in blind to Eroticon. I’d glanced over the schedule, but being a newbie I decided to mostly go with the flow and go to whatever felt right in the moment.

This time, though, I’ve got a much more curated workshops plan in order to get what I want the most out of the ‘Con. In case you were wondering, it is as follows:

Saturday:
Taboo (Remittance Girl)
Making Money from Your Blog (Kayla Lords)
Legal Tips for Sex Writers (Neil Brown)
Podcasting Panel (Kayla Lords & John Brownstone)
Different Approaches to Sex Toy Activism (Emmeline Peaches)
KinkLab

Sunday:
Is There a Book in Your Blog? (Cressida Dowling)
Getting It Up (Fetish.com)
Shocking the System (Kendra Holliday)
How to Give Responsible Sex Advice (panel)
Financial Wizardry for Sex Bloggers (Sarah Bryn Holliday & Sarah Jane)

Naturally, I’ll also be attending the Friday evening pre-drinks and the Saturday evening social. Other plans include a pre-‘Con run with Emmeline, dinner with Sarah, and food and recording a podcast with Kayla and John of Loving BDSM. Of course, my planned schedule is flexible if I find I’m really not in the mood for something at the time, but this is a good cross-section of stuff I want to learn plus all the workshops I consider ‘unmissable’ this year!

3.The signature kitty ears

I wasn’t expecting these to be such a hit last year! To be honest, I wasn’t even expecting to be the only person in feline-themed headwear! I just wore them because they make me feel more confident and they help me to tap into my kinky, sexy, sparkly self. But I got so many compliments on them and people remembered me for them (I literally pitched an article to Girl on the Net with an email that included a sentence along the lines of ‘if you don’t remember me, I was the one with the ears’.)

Yeah, they’re definitely coming with me again this year. I might even pack a couple of different pairs. Yes, I have daywear ears and formal ears. Doesn’t everyone!?

4. The Catsuit of Joy

Remember this one? It was a review item/gift from my friends at Latex Leather & Lace and the cause of The Boobs That Made Straight Girls Question Their Heterosexuality.

Yes, I’m planning on wearing it on Saturday night. Yes, I will also be pairing it with the aforementioned signature ears. And yes, you have my full consent to stare at my chest as much as you like.

5. (Small) sex toys

I’m not interested in hooking up at Eroticon, but I did realise last year that hearing so much glorious smut during the day would inevitably lead me to needing to have a quick wank back in my hotel room before bed. Couple this with the fact that citalopram withdrawal has made my sex drive go a bit haywire this last week or so, and… yeah.

I’m gonna be short on packing space but I think the Tango and MiMi will fit nicely in my case.

6. Fabulous femme things

I can’t wait to get my femme on at Eroticon. I’m already planning makeup experiments of the kind I don’t normally attempt. There will be glitter, for sure, because I need to make the most of this opportunity as I am no longer allowed to wear glitter at home (you get it in the sofa ONE time…!) There will also be jewellery, made for me by my sweetie The Artist, getting its first outing that weekend.

7. A portable coffee mug and good coffee

Um, hey. Have you met me? I’m obsessed with coffee and would probably replace my blood with it if I wouldn’t die. I just ordered myself an awesome new travel mug, which is coming with me and will be filled permanently with coffee in order to keep me going at top capacity through the whirlwind of the weekend. I’ll probably also bring a stash of coffee bags, because I find the coffee most venues serve leaves a lot to be desired. (Yes, I’m a snob.)

8. My Fuck.com notebook

This was in the goodie bags at Eroticon 2017 and it’s still my favourite notebook to scribble smutty notes in. I’ll be frantically taking notes and story ideas and sound-bites and hanging on every word my favourite presenters have to say!

9. Hugs to give out

There are so many people I want to cuddlepounce the fuck out of next weekend. I will be coming with my best hugging arms and ready to wrap them around anyone who consents.

10. Realness

Last night, I was panicking that I haven’t achieved all of the things I wanted to achieve ahead of this year’s Eroticon. I haven’t lost 50lb, or finished my novella. I haven’t quit my job to spend my days writing about dildos (okay, that one is a pipe dream rather than an actual plan) or completely weaned myself off my antidepressants. Hell, I haven’t even finished my PhD application!

But then I realised: it doesn’t matter. I can bring my realness to Eroticon. I can be a hot mess in all my hot, messy glory, and it will be okay. These are my people and this is my community and I can be both a fabulous, smut-loving sparklefemme AND an anxious wreck with a hefty dose of imposter syndrome. Both of these things can be true. It will be okay.

I think  the theme of this Eroticon for me will be: I am.

If you’re there too, come say hello!

I’m very friendly. Talk to me about BDSM, sex toys, smashing the patriarchy, what you’re reading lately, musical theatre, coffee, sex ed reform, feminist fiction, femme identity or non-monogamy. Or just tell me about your work and I’ll lap it up.

If you want to support my work and help me keep attending conferences like Eroticon, which are the highlight of my year but also expensive, you can buy me a virtual coffee, shop with my affiliates in the right-hand sidebar, or become a Sexy Patron to access some exciting bonus content. (I’m considering audio clips for Patreon supporters, so there’s that to look forward to!) Thank you to Oliver, my newest Patreon supporter.

Masturbation Monday: “Movie Night”

This story is dedicated to Hannah and Tits & Test Tubes. CN for consensual humiliation/degradation play. 

A female-read person's torso, wearing a blue shirt with their breasts exposed.

Jessica snuggles into Sir’s shoulder and lets out a gentle purr as he scritches her head beneath her blonde pixie-cut. From his other side, a moan of contentment from Katie lets her know that the other woman is getting similar treatment. She loves when the three of them are all together like this, her and the two people she loves most in the world. She pulls the blanket up more closely about her shoulders, and reaches across Sir’s lap to place an affectionate hand on Katie’s leg.

As the movie progresses, Sir’s hand moves from petting her head to stroking her arm. She bites back a gasp when it moves to her breast, and keeps her eyes fixed on the TV screen. Sir grasps her nipple through her thin t-shirt and begins to pinch and twist it in just the way she loves. She bits her lip and manages to hold back the moan of pleasure that is welling in her throat. Her cunt begins to dampen.

Jessica hears a whimper. At last, she flips her eyes away from the screen and to the other side of the couch. Sir’s hand has disappeared beneath the blanket, and is moving in Katie’s lap. Katie’s eyes are closed and her lips slightly parted as her breathing quickens.

Katie draws in her breath sharply as Sir’s hand slides up her leg and over the thin lace covering her mound. She tries to contain herself, not wanting to appear too desperate, even though she is. She’s been edging every night for the week leading up to this date and she knows that she’ll be embarrassingly drippy within seconds.

Sir runs his fingers over her cunt on the outside of her knickers, brushing tantalisingly close to her swollen clit, the seat of her longing, but never quite touching it. She feels a wet spot already staining her new panties. She closes her eyes and her head falls back, her toes curling as she tries not to hump his teasing hand. When she does peek over at the other side of the couch, Jessica is watching her with lust in her eyes as Sir’s hand plays with her erect nipple.

‘God, you’re soaked,’ Sir murmurs as his hand moves faster underneath the blanket. The squeal of tormented pleasure that comes from Katie tells Jessica that Sir’s fingers have found her nub and are rubbing it in just that way she likes. Jessica wants to throw back the blanket and watch him fingering their girlfriend’s cunt, but she knows better. Instead she focuses on Katie’s face, on the sounds she makes, and on Sir’s ministrations on her now painfully hard nipple. If only he’d finger her cunt, too…

‘You want this too, don’t you?’ Sir asks her as if reading her mind. Jessica nods furiously. ‘Too bad. You get to watch her suffer and your cunt isn’t getting any attention at all.’

Two of Sir’s fingers slide into Katie’s begging cunt, while his thumb continues to rub her clit. Despite herself, she begins to rock her hips, humping his hand in rhythm with his thrusts into her.

‘Filthy cunt. Gagging for it already.’

Katie can already feel the orgasm starting to well up within her.

‘Sir…’ she gasps. ‘Sir, please may I come?’

‘You know how to ask better than that, slut!’

‘Sir, please can this filthy little fucktoy come?’ 

‘That’s better, but since you ask so nicely… no, you may not.’

The cry of frustrated torment that comes from Katie makes Jessica’s own cunt even wetter. Almost before she realises what she’s doing, her left hand slips under the blanket and into her shorts. She’s brought back to reality a second before her fingers reach her clit by a sharp slap across her breast.

‘Don’t you fucking dare!’ Sir growls at her. ‘Put those hands where I can see them.’

Jessica whimpers, but withdraws her hand and places it in her lap. Sir pinches her nipple to hard it makes her cry out.

‘These cunts get touched when I say they get touched, and not a second before. Got it?’

‘Yes… yes, Sir!’

‘Good.’ He releases her abused nipple from his grip and returns to stroking it unfuriatingly gently with his fingertips.

Katie’s moans are becoming more frantic. She is clearly trying to hold back the forbidden orgasm she so desperately craves. Jessica watches her with a mixture of awe and envy. She squirms in her seat, grabbing a fistful of the blanket to stop her hand from straying once again. She’s so wet she’s sure she has dripped through her shorts and stained the couch beneath her.

‘Fuck!’ Katie thinks. ‘Mustn’t come without permission… must not come without permission… must not…’

Sir pushes his fingers even deeper into her as he continues to caress her clit in circles.

‘Please, Sir!’ she begs as the first waves start to hit her.

‘Please what?’

‘Please let me come, Sir… or please stop so I don’t without permission…’

‘Hold it, cunt,’ he orders, his level voice a stark contrast to her frantic pleas. ‘Control yourself.’ 

Katie summons all her willpower and tries desperately to think of something unsexy, but her cunt has a mind of its own. The harder she tries to pull herself back from the edge, the closer Sir’s skilled fingers push her to it. It’s no good. She wants to be a good girl, to obey, but she’s clenching harder and she’s going to…  

The hand is withdrawn. Katie whimpers as the longed-for orgasm is ripped away from her at the last second. Her cunt throbs and the familiar ache in her clit returns, stronger than ever. Sir pushes his fingers, coated in her juices, into her mouth.

‘Clean your sloppy cunt off my fingers.’ She licks them clean eagerly, tasting her own desperation. ‘God, you’re filthy.’ Sir says. ‘Now get on your knees between Jessica’s legs and edge her for me hard with your tongue.’

____________

 

Original story by me. Prompt image is by Hyacinth of A Dissolute Life Means. Masturbation Monday is a blogging meme set up by Kayla Lords. Click the logo to see what other delicious wank-fodder is floating around this week.