Tag: female dominant

Header image for female-led relationship 101

What is a Female-Led Relationship? FLR 101

Published on by Amy2 Comments

Unfortunately, even in 2022, inequality in heterosexual relationships is widely socially accepted and sometimes even expected. 

For example, one UK study recently showed that the average woman in a hetero partnership does 20 hours of housework per week, while her male partner does just 11.5 hours. It is still assumed that when a straight couple has children, the woman will be the one to take time off work to raise and care for them. And then there’s issues such as the persistent gender pay gap, the orgasm gap, and unequal distribution of emotional labour. 

Most of us would agree that eliminating inequality and creating more equal and balanced relationships is a good thing. But for some people, a consensual and negotiated imbalance of power is actually what they want in their relationships. This type of dynamic is often called a Dominant/submissive, or D/s, relationship.

Today we’re taking a close look at one such type of dynamic: female-led relationships, or FLR. 

What Exactly is FLR? 

In general, the term female-lead relationship (FLR) is used to refer to a heterosexual (or hetero-read, because some people in FLRs may be bisexual or pansexual) relationship in which the woman is in charge. 

The level of control in an FLR can vary drastically, depending on what the people involved want. It might be as simple as the woman taking charge of the majority of day-to-day decision-making within the relationship, or as complex as intricate systems of rules with consequences, rewards, and punishments built in. The term FLR is usually applied when the D/s aspect of the relationship extends beyond the bedroom, though this isn’t an absolute rule.  

Some people view FLR as simply “role reversal”, but it’s not quite that simple. A female-led relationship isn’t about reversing gender inequality and placing a man into the role that women have historically been forced to occupy. Instead, it is about consensual and negotiated inequality that exists for the enjoyment and fulfilment of both parties. The cornerstone of FLR and any other form of D/s is that it is consensual and that either partner may withdraw that consent at any time. 

Why Does FLR Strike a Chord with So Many?

“Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.” So goes the possibly-apocryphal saying attributed to Oscar Wilde. 

D/s relationships of all kinds may strike a chord with people because power and sexuality are so inextricably bound up together. This can mean that playing with power and power imbalances in a consensual context can be incredibly sexy. 

There are numerous other reasons why someone might enjoy an FLR dynamic, and the only way to know what is true for any individual is to ask them. For some men who submit to their female partners, it’s about having a break from the responsibilities they have in their day to day lives (many men who are submissive at home have high-flying, high-pressure jobs.) 

Some men also find that taking on a submissive role frees them from the expectations and constraints of toxic masculinity. Submitting allows them to be vulnerable, to stop fearing appearing “weak”, and to be taken care of. 

For dominant women, some enjoy the feeling of power and strength that comes from taking on a dominant role. It can be highly erotically charged to have someone do exactly as you tell them, in or out of the bedroom. 

Many dominant women also find that their submissive partners are more attentive to their needs, increasing their sexual and romantic satisfaction in the relationship. Being dominant can also involve taking care of your partner, and some women enjoy bringing a nurturing side to their dominance. 

The more interesting question is always “why does FLR strike a chord with you?” If you can answer this question, you’ll have the best chance of building the relationship that works for you and your partner. 

FLR and Chastity: What’s the Connection? 

Many, though not all, female-led relationships include an element of chastity play. Chastity refers to restricting someone’s ability to experience sexual pleasure or reach orgasm. It often involves the use of a chastity cage or chastity device, which physically prevents the wearer from masturbating, having sex, and sometimes even getting an erection. 

People in FLRs practice chastity in many different ways. Some do it occasionally as a form of foreplay, increasing desire and ramping up the tension before sex or a play session. Others lock their partners up long term, anything from days to weeks or months at a time. Chastity play may also include periods of tease and denial or edging – bringing someone close to orgasm without letting them go over the edge. 

Chastity play can be hot for so many reasons. Most obviously, not allowing release for a period of time increases arousal and allows desire to build and build with nowhere to go. It can also make the eventual orgasm so much more intense. Handing someone else control of your sexual pleasure is, for some people, the ultimate act of submission. 

Don’t forget to play safe if you’re doing chastity, particularly long-term chastity. Dan Savage spoke to a certified urologist in this article, who offered some thoughts on the potential risks and some of the ways to mitigate them. 

You must assess your own level of acceptable risk. Either way, it’s probably smart to take off your device and give your cock a break once in a while. You should also ensure that the wearer always has a spare key in case of emergencies. You can also read more about chastity safety and hygiene here. 

What Makes a Successful FLR?

Ultimately, an FLR is still a relationship. This means that all the ingredients that go into making any relationship work still apply here. Trust, communication, and compassion must be front and centre at all times. 

Taking on a dominant role in a relationship is a position of great responsibility. This means that you need a lot of trust, and that this trust must go both ways. The submissive man needs to know that his partner will respect his limits, honour his vulnerabilities, and act in his best interests. And the dominant woman needs to trust that her partner will be honest about his needs and boundaries, speak up if something is wrong, and see her as a full human being and not merely a fetish fulfillment device. 

Even if you are living in an FLR full-time, it is vital to be able to step out of role and communicate with one another as equals when required. I always recommend setting aside time for a regular check-in in any D/s relationship. This gives you time to address any issues and ensures that problems won’t be left to fester. You can also agree on a specific safeword which means “I need to talk to you as equals right now.” 

Compassion means treating each other with kindness, consideration, and empathy. Even in a D/s relationship, life is still life and you will both have good days and bad days. While FLR can be a central component of your relationship, it should never override seeing one another as partners first and foremost. 

How Can I Find a Partner for a FLR? 

Glance at any BDSM forum or discussion space, and you’ll find complaints that submissive men enormously outnumber dominant women. I don’t know whether this is actually true, as there aren’t any reliable statistics on this as far as I know. 

What I do know is that there are likely far more kinky people out there than you think, and that there are things you can do to improve your chances of finding the Domme of your dreams as a single submissive man. All of these guidelines also apply if you’re a dominant woman seeking a submissive, too. 

First, getting involved in your local BDSM community is the best way to meet other people who might be interested in this kind of lifestyle. Complete your Fetlife profile, attend some munches and play events, and get to know people. The trick here is to treat everyone as a potential friend, not a potential partner. You’ll build a positive reputation, start getting invited to more events and parties, and the rest will follow. 

Next, be yourself. There’s no point putting on an act that represents what you think a dominant or submissive person is “supposed” to be. You want to end up in a relationship with someone who loves you for who you are, not who you pretend to be. 

Approach any potential FLR relationship as a relationship first. Compatible kinks and desires are important, but they’re not enough to sustain a relationship by themselves. You’ll also need to enjoy each other’s company, respect each other, have fun together, and have compatible long-term goals. 

Finally, be patient. It can take a while to find the right person, but when you do, the rewards can be tremendous. 

I’d like to thank today’s sponsor, LockTheCock, for their kind support of this post. Check out their wide range of chastity cages and accessories on their website! All views and writing are, as always, my own. 

Header image for a post on gentle femdom and praise kink by Katherine Pierce

[Guest Post] Adventures in Gentle Femdom by Katherine Pierce

Published on by Amy1 Comment

Today’s guest post comes from Katherine Pierce (she/her), who is writing for C&K for the first time. I loved this heartfelt piece on her explorations into gentle femdom and praise kink, and what it means to her and her partner.

Amy x

Adventures in Gentle Femdom by Katherine Pierce

My partner and I have been together for six months, and recently we began exploring kink. He’d never experimented with kink before, and my previous experiences of it were quite negative: my last partner didn’t let me explore my own desires and treated me as a permanently submissive player in his fantasies, which he often wasn’t good at distinguishing from real life. I consider myself a switch, but wasn’t interested in the very aggressive style of dominance my ex enjoyed, and assumed I would never find a way to explore that dominant part of myself.

When my current partner and I first started going out, we were focused on understanding each other sexually. He hadn’t had a lot of past sexual experience, and each time we slept together we uncovered new things about both of us. Our first find was his praise kink and his love of cuddling and tenderness after sex.

Soon after, he began to show me that something he really enjoyed was following instructions and knowing he was pleasing me. He enjoyed not having to be in control. I, meanwhile, loved the fact that I was in a dominant position, but one completely different to what I had seen before. Giving him attention, affection and love after our sex was really fulfilling for me. I decided that this would be a great opportunity to start introducing kink into my sex life again.

We did a bit of research together, and discovered something that seemed to sum up what we already did and what we were interested in trying: gentle femdom.

What is gentle femdom?

Gentle femdom is a style of dominance where a woman is in charge, often but not always of a male partner. However, unlike more aggressive styles of dominance, it focuses on gentleness, tender words, soft aesthetics and lots of aftercare.

A gentle femdom is a nurturing and caring figure, one who supports her sub and gives them space to please her, follow instructions and be rewarded for their good behaviour. She might dress her sub up, give them baths or makeovers, penetrate them in different ways, or a whole host of other activities.

Gentle femdom also doesn’t tend to use pain or punishment as a significant part of its modes of play. Whilst a little spanking for sexual pleasure might be included, there is no hardcore pain infliction. Humiliating or demeaning dirty talk isn’t often used, either. Sexologist Carol Queen said that sometimes subs “feel that it is easier to feel loved and cared for in such a scene”. What kind of sex could work better for a dom interested in being gentle and a sub with a praise kink and longing for affection?

Trying it out

As soon as my partner and I heard about this, we thought it sounded perfect for us. We started small, doing our usual sex acts but with a slightly altered dynamic. I guided him verbally and physically through doing the things we were used to, gave him lots of praise and instructions, sometimes wore lingerie or fancy outfits for our sex together. When we had sex focused on gradually introducing kink, he called me mistress.

I liked having him listen to me, seeing his eagerness to follow instructions. Gradually we began to introduce new elements to our sex, with me guiding him all the way. We’re a very verbal couple, and instructions, dirty talk, and gentle commands are a great part of our sex life which help us both settle into the kinky roles we enjoy.

I placed him in more open and vulnerable sexual positions, and we tried rimming and fingering for the first time, which we both loved. We’ve also recently started trying butt plugs and have bought a strapon, although we’re working up to using it. The tenderness and slow pace of gentle femdom has helped so much with our explorations of kink. It’s also given us a brilliant opportunity to learn more about each other emotionally.

We’ve experimented with a bit of gender play too, and dressing my partner up in my lingerie brought a subversive element to gentle femdom, especially because it made him feel more submissive and pretty. I love that telling my partner he’s beautiful is now a specific, dedicated part of sex.

Aftercare is one of my favourite parts of gentle femdom, especially because it builds on intimacy my partner and I already enjoyed. He sometimes feels fragile or nervous after sex. Having a specific, dedicated time for taking care of him and making him feel safe has made our sex even hotter. Researching aftercare and thinking of new things to do together after sex – having bubble baths, snacking on chocolate – expands our intimacy and gives it a comforting framework.

Gentle femdom has given me an opportunity to explore a side of myself I’ve always wanted to know, as well as making sex a tender and emotionally open space. I’ve been able to learn more about my partner and take care of him in a way which brings us even closer together, and we’ve tried some really hot things along the way.

As always, you can support the blog by chipping in via the tip jar (tips help to pay a small fee to my lovely guest writers) or by buying through the affiliate links that appear in this post.

A bookshop. For a fictional story called Erotic Literature

Erotic Literature

Published on by Amy1 Comment

I manage not to blush too deeply as she starts ringing up my purchases. That’s progress, at least. I’ve been coming to this bookstore for the entire three years I’ve lived in this neighbourhood, and most of my purchases are from their incredibly well-stocked “romance” (read: erotic fiction) section.

I don’t give a fuck when the older male owner is working the cash register, or the college student who must be all of nineteen. They can think what they like. But when this girl is working – this thirty-something soft-butch with her short turquoise hair and well-tailored shirt and lip-ring – I get all tongue-tied and feel like a clueless teenager buying her first Jilly Cooper and furtively skipping to the naughty bits, not a sexually confident woman of twenty-nine.

“You must really like this author,” she says, holding up one of my purchases. “This is the third one you’ve bought this month.”

“I…” I stammer over my words, feeling suddenly caught out as I hand over a twenty pound note. “Yeah, she writes great… characters.”

A raise of an eyebrow. “Characters. Sure, sweetie.” She drops my books into a bag and hands them to me. “Enjoy.” She winks. “By the way, you’re cute when you blush.”

“I am not bl…”

She cuts me off by leaning over the counter and planting a kiss, quick and soft, on my lips.

We stare at each other. She seems almost as shocked as me. “Shit. Sorry. I shouldn’t have… I should have asked..”

“No. Don’t be. I liked it. I mean, I like you. And…” Fuck. What’s the correct way to say every time I’ve seen you for the last three years I’ve been wishing you’d just fuck me against one of these bookshelves?

She comes around from behind the counter and switches the door sign from “Open” to “Closed.” Flicks the latch to lock the door. Then she comes to me, lifts my chin with her hand to make me meet her eyes. Her eyes ask the question before she asks it out loud.

“Yes?”

“God, yes.”

Her lips press to mine. She tastes of peppermint chapstick. As our tongues entwine she pushes me back against the hard edge of the counter.

Her hand finds the waistband of my skirt. Yes, yes… but she pulls back at the last second. “Much as I want to fuck you right here, anyone walking past could see us. And while I’m sure they’d enjoy seeing you being a dirty little slut, I don’t want to get fired. Come with me.”

The back office is small, messy, and piled high with books. Books in boxes, books in piles on the floor, books strewn haphazardly across the desk. She sweeps a few papers off the desk chair and points to it. “Sit.” Powerless to resist her dominance and not even wanting to, I do.

“Now,” she says. She takes the carrier bag I’m still clutching from my hands and pulls out one of my purchases. She opens it and hands it to me. “You’re going to sit in that chair and read for me from this smut you like so much. While you do, I’m going to eat your cunt. If you stop reading, I stop licking. So if you want to come, you’d better do a good job for me.”

Fuck. Seriously? My cunt definitely likes the sound of this game. I worry I’m soaking through my knickers.

She goes to her knees and reaches under my skirt, putting her hands on my thighs to spread my legs. Then she peels my knickers off and grins wickedly up at me. “I might be on my knees, pretty girl, but don’t forget who’s in charge. Now start reading.”

I bite my lip and look down at the page. Concentrate, I tell myself. Hesitantly at first, I begin to read. My face flushes at hearing the kind of erotic filth I like to read spoken out loud. Her tongue makes contact with my clit and I fight back a moan. Keep reading.

The scene heats up quickly and by the time I’m on the third page, her flicks of my clit with her tongue mirrors what’s happening between the characters. I try not to squirm too much and to concentrate on the words in front of me, though they’re all starting to swim together. God, she’s really good at this. I can feel my wetness dripping onto the chair underneath me.

She slides two fingers into my cunt and my voice falters as my eyes flutter closed. She takes her mouth away from my cunt just long enough to say sternly, “don’t you fucking dare stop reading.” As if to emphasise her point, she nips she inside of my thigh with her teeth. I squeak at the sudden pain.

Fuck, she’s really good. My legs are shaking and the hand that isn’t holding the book is gripping the edge of the desk, white-knuckled. Her fingers stroke my G-spot in the come-hither motion I love as she laps more forcefully at my clit.

The words are coming out of my mouth more erratically, now, as I frantically try not to lose my place. Until now I’ve always assumed I need perfect concentration to be able to come – but her tongue and fingers are pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

She looks up from between my legs and her eyes meet mine. “You can come when the girl in the story does,” she says.

Knowing I’m not going to last much longer, and desperately not wanting to disobey this gorgeous dominant woman, I try to speed up my reading to reach the climax – ahem – of the scene.

“Getting close!” I read as the woman in the story is finger-fucked by her partner.

“Her fingers worked their way in and out of me, harder and faster, and I knew I was seconds away from coming and that I was probably going to gush all over her hand…” I read, my voice now shaking. The woman between my legs presses harder against my G-spot and encircles my whole clitoris with her warm mouth.

“I’m coming…” I read. And with one last flick of her tongue, she pushes me over the edge at the same moment as the woman in the story. I feel the rush of fluid from between my legs and I know she’s made me squirt. The book drops from my hand to the desk as I hold her head against my cunt, fucking her face until the last waves of orgasm have subsided.

She sits back, licking her lips and looking very pleased with herself.

“I just realised,” she says. “I forgot to ask your name.”

This piece was written as part of Smutathon. Please donate if you can – all funds raised to go support safe, legal abortion access. You can read everyone’s smutty work at the Smutathon website.

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Close up of a woman in a skintight catsuit

Masturbation Monday: “On the Prowl”

Published on by Amy7 Comments

She is on the prowl tonight. The black latex clings to every inch of her perfect body, the heels of her boots are spikes to crush anyone who gets in her way. The cat ears could be considered cute on someone else, but she will eat you alive if you call her cute.

She’s in the mood to fuck tonight. Not to get fucked; no. Tonight she wields the cock and you will submit.

She’ll extend a long finger, her nail a perfect pointed claw the colour of blood, and from across the room you’ll feel that nail and her gaze pierce you. You. She has chosen you, and she knows you will follow. That finger beckons you, and you come. The heat of the bodies and the thump of the music swells as she draws you in, close enough to feel the heat of her breath on your lips, close enough to see yourself reflected back in those startling feline eyes. She’s assessing you; will you pass? You must choose, in this moment, to obey or not. If you don’t, she will have no hesitance in casting you aside with a flick of her tail and seeking a more suitable worshiper.

Satisfied, she grants you a single nod of approval. You lap it up as though you are starving. She will not allow you to touch her. You have not earned that right. Your hands must stay obediently at your sides, a test of your willpower and devotion.

Later, you will find yourself prostrate on her bed in submission as she slides in and out of you. You revel in the gentle hiss of her breath at the exertion. She revels in the sheen of sweat glistening upon your back as you take her in. She might reach beneath you to wrap her claws around your longing cock – if you’re lucky. More likely she will simply use you, take what she wants and ignore your aching need, and you will adore her all the more for it. You are here, after all, to serve her.

Tonight she is on the prowl, and her hunt will be rewarded.

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


Black and white photo of a butt plug

Masturbation Monday: “Take a Seat”

Published on by Amy4 Comments

I didn’t know what I was going to write for today’s Masturbation Monday and was pretty much all out of inspiration. I usually ignore the photo prompts and just write what I want. This week, though, I clicked over to the page to see what the image prompt was, and… well, look at it! My mind started to spin, and this is what it came up with…

A glass butt plug on a white chair.

I try not to squirm too much in my seat. She hates when I do that – she interprets it as complaining, which I’m not allowed to do. Across the table from me, my Mistress calmly eats her salad, occasionally looking up from her plate to flash me that devilish smile. Her strawberry-blonde curls tumble to half way down her back and her breasts look fucking incredible in that black dress she knows I love and, undoubtedly, her favourite push-up bra beneath it. Her fifties have been kind to her – in the thirty years I’ve known her, she’s got more beautiful with every passing year.

As for me, I’m wearing my best suit – it is our anniversary, after all, and this restaurant is very expensive. I’m sure to anyone observing we just look like a normal, middle-aged couple out for a special dinner. What no-one else knows is that under my trousers, I’ve got a glass butt-plug nestled deep in my ass.

She bent me over our bed before we left, lubed up the plug and slid it into my ass, telling me that I was going to be a good boy and wear it for her all night – without giving the game away in public, of course. And so here I am, feeling it inside me with every movement and trying not to let my face betray our secret.

She pops a forkful of food into her mouth and her eyes lock with mine. Her eyes smoulder with lust and I just know she’s wet and not wearing knickers under that dress. Tormenting me is her biggest turn-on. My cock twitches, unable to get hard in its prison but straining at the metal walls nonetheless. My ass tightens around the hard glass of the plug, sending a rush of pleasure through me.

She swallows her mouthful and mouths a single word at me. Her favourite word. “Mine“.

I am hers, every inch of me from the greying hairs on my head to my plugged ass to my caged cock. I only hope she will let me eat her beautiful cunt when we get home, while I get no pleasure at all.

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

Image is by the fabulous Exposing 40 and was originally published as Take A Seat.

Black and white shot of the interior of a restaurant

Masturbation Monday: “Dining Alone”

Published on by Amy7 Comments

Today’s Masturbation Monday comes from a prompt by Mr C&K – “write about going to a restaurant and getting it on with the hot waitress.” Well okay then!

I noticed her the moment I walked in. Long waves of red hair, barely contained by the sensible ponytail, curves filling the modest-yet-sexy knee length black dress, a smattering of freckles from the summer sun across the bridge of her nose, grey-green eyes. So my type it hurts.

So straight it hurts, I tell myself as she asks me where I’d like to sit and shows me to a quiet booth at the back of the restaurant. The girls you like always are. I’ve been on this business trip ten days and I’m sick of everything this boring little town has to offer – which isn’t much. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since I stepped off the plane.

I order my glass of wine, my starter, my main course, and each time she comes to take an order or bring me something I try not to stare. The shape of her breasts in that dress – not to mention the fact that I haven’t had sex or even masturbated in weeks – has my cunt dripping into my knickers. I reach into my bag for my book, the book I’ve been secretly reading at night in my hotel room. Do I actually dare read it here, in public?

Fuck it, I think. No-one here is paying attention, and even if they do, they don’t know me.

Of course, the filth on the page just has me even wetter, reading about women doing filthy things to each other and imagining the beautiful waitress in those scenarios with me.

“What are you reading?” she asks, coming over to clear my starter plate away. I jump and look up guiltily, slamming the book shut and shoving it onto my lap under the table. To my disbelief, she reaches down and grabs it to take a look.

“Best Lesbian Erotica,” she reads out loud, an eyebrow raised. Her gaze moves from the book cover to my now scarlet face. “Really now?”

“Research…” I stammer.

“Sure, babe.” She hands the book back to me. “More wine?”

“What? Oh. Uh. Yes. Please.”

She takes my glass and saunters away without another word. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was swinging her hips and ass deliberately to taunt me. Not knowing what else to do, I return to my book. When she brings my wine and, a few minutes later, my main course, I dare to flash what I hope is a flirtatious smile at her.

Judge me for reading porn in public, I dare you!

“Is everything okay?” she asks, appearing by my table again as I’m half way through my spaghetti alla carbonara. I nod, my mouth full. She pulls a pen out of her breast pocket, grabs the spare napkin from the unused place setting opposite me, scrawls a quick note and shoves it towards me. This all seems to happen in a single fluid movement, and she’s walking away again.

Shift finishes in twenty. When you see me go through the door in the far left corner, follow me – code is 1013. Don’t let my colleague see you. We won’t be disturbed. 

I nearly choke on my mouthful of spaghetti. Even as I’m telling myself that this is insane, I know that I will go. After all, when a beautiful woman summons you with such calm authority, what else can you do?

I keep my eyes on my food and occasionally glance at my watch as the ten minutes ticks down. At precisely one minute past ten, I watch out of the corner of my eye as she waves goodnight to her colleague and saunters to the back of the restaurant and out of sight.

Am I really going to do this? Do I dare? In a second, I decide. I throw down enough cash to cover my meal and a generous tip – a very generous tip – and head in the same direction, one eye on the other waitress, now the only person working. As she’s ringing up another customer, I seize my moment, punch in the code, and shut the “staff only” door behind me. I just have time to take note of that fact that we’re in a large and deserted commercial kitchen, all silver and chrome, when…

“I knew you’d come.”

She’s sitting on one of the shiny counter-tops, stockinged feet now free of her high-heeled shoes, sipping from a glass of what looks like whisky on the rocks.

“I don’t really know…”

I was going to say I don’t really know why I did, but she cuts me off. “Shush. You’ve been eye-fucking me since the moment you walked in. Lucky for you, I think you’re kinda cute too.” She hops down and comes towards me. She’s shorter than me without her tall shoes, but the confidence and power she exudes leaves me in no doubt who’s in charge.

My mind starts to race. Is she toying with me? Is this some kind of joke? What if someone walks in at any second? Then she presses her perfect, red, whisky-flavoured lips to mine, and I stop thinking about anything at all.

She pushes me back against the closed door, fingers twisting their way into my hair as we kiss. I think I moan, but the sound is swallowed by the kiss. I cannot remember the last time my cunt was so wet from nothing more than kissing and feeling someone’s body pressed up against mine.

She nudges my legs apart with her hand, then brings her leg between mine, thigh pressing against my cunt. Even through my tights and knickers, I’m sure she can feel the heat and wetness. Shameless, now, I grind against her, desperate for more stimulation. God, how long has it been? Can a few short weeks of no sex really make me into such a wanton slut?

I gasp when the leg is moved and replaced by her hand, the ends of long, elegant fingers dancing ever-so-softly against my cunt through the two thin layers of clothing. She’s teasing me, because she can see how much I want it.

“Please…” I whimper against her mouth.

“Is this what you want?” she asks, slipping her hand under the waistband of my tights and into my knickers, making contact with my desperate cunt at last. My gasp of pleasure is the answer she needs. When her fingers make contact with my clit and begin to circle it, I cannot help my moaning.

“You have to be quiet,” she says. “Can’t have you getting me caught and in trouble. If you make too much noise I’ll have to stop.” Her calm dominance and her talented fingers have me weak at the knees, gladly wanting to do anything she says, anything to please her. Another rush of wetness coats my already soaked panties.

I’ve always been loud in bed. It’s just the way I am. Back in my university days, my housemates hated it when I brought this girl or that boy home for a night of passion (which was often) because it meant none of them were getting any rest that night. But I believe this beautiful woman when she tells me that she will stop fingering me if I make too much noise, and all I want in the world right now is for her fingers to keep going, keep pushing me towards bliss.

Her rubbing has changed. Faster now, and harder, my own juices providing all the lubrication we need. I bury my face in her shoulder, in her hair, to hold back my sounds. My clit feels harder than I can ever remember it being, and I’m thrusting my hips, humping her hand with my cunt. I’m so close! For some reason it comes to me to ask her permission.

“Please can I cum?” I whisper frantically.

“Just from this little bit of attention? God, you really were gagging for it, weren’t you?”

The flush of embarrassment nearly pushes me over the edge. “Oh, god, please…”

“You can cumif you can do it quietly.”

My mouth opens into a scream but no sound comes out. Somehow, holding the sound in makes my orgasm even more intense and I cum, harder than I have ever cum before, in this stranger’s hand.

As I grab at the wall to steady myself, she places a small kiss upon my lips and then withdraws her hand from my knickers and shoves her sticky fingers into my mouth.

“Clean your mess up,” she orders. I suck the fingers clean, the musky smell and taste of my own cunt making me realise how much I want to taste hers.

“Can I…?” I ask, already crouching before her and starting to push her dress up.

“No. My colleague will be in here any minute and you need to be gone by then.” I swallow my disappointment as my hopes of getting to bury my face between her perfect legs are dashed. Then, perhaps inspired by her, I have a flash of daring.

“Quick. Give me your phone.” She does. I punch in the name of my hotel and my room number. “I’m here two more nights. Come and find me and I’ll return the favour.”

It’s not until she’s kissed me once more and then shoved me out of the back door and into the night that I realise I never caught her name.

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

A woman typing on a laptop at a desk, for a lesbian erotica piece about oral sex under the desk

Masturbation Monday: “Oral Service”

Published on by Amy4 Comments

She’s a good girl. I tell her so often. It’s one of the many reasons I love her. She’s been serving me faithfully for years now, my girl, and it’s got so much better since we’ve both been self-employed and working from home.

Usually when we’re at home together, we work side by side in my home office. Well… I sit at the desk and she sits cross-legged on the floor by my side, laptop open in front of her. I like her to wear nothing but cute knickers and her collar. Sometimes not even that. She fetches me coffee when she takes a break from typing, knowing exactly how I like it – cream, no sugar unless I’m having a particularly stressful day, and served to me by a gorgeous kneeling service submissive. She glows with pride when I take the drink, take a sip, then stroke her hair and tell her she’s my good girl.

Sometimes, though, the service I require from her is more intimate than just fetching my drink. You see, I’m an erotica author by profession. I write about sex – hot, steamy, wild, kinky, queer sex – for seven or eight hours a day. And more often than not, I get really fucking turned on doing it.

“Girl.”

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Get to a good stopping place and tell me when you’re ready”. I am considerate of her work and always give her a reasonable time-frame to refocus her attention on serving me. A few minutes later, she tells me she’s ready.

“Good. Now come over here and get under the desk. This scene I’m writing has got me needing your lovely tongue”. I push my chair back to let her get into position under my desk. Then I move back towards her, flip my skirt up – I hardly ever wear knickers for exactly this reason – and offer my cunt to my eagerly waiting girl.

She runs the tip of her tongue against my labia, then pushes it into my cunt, tasting my excitement. Then she finds my clit and begins first circling it, then flicking it gently. I moan, my back arching, hands gripping the edge of the desk. Fuck, she’s good. She licks faster, lashing my sensitive clit with her tongue. She might be my submissive, but I am all hers when she pleasures me like this.

My legs are beginning to tremble as she brings me closer to orgasm. I know she feels it, because she clamps her mouth around my clit and sucks it hard. This always tips me over the edge. I reach under the desk and grasp a handful of her hair, using it to hold her pretty face in position as my cunt spasms and I come, hard, in her mouth.

As my orgasm subsides I release her and fall back in my chair, catching my breath.

She peeks out from under the desk and grins.

“Kiss?” she asks in that adorable voice that I can rarely say no to.

I lean down to kiss her, my girl. My good girl, still with the taste of my orgasm on her lips.

Masturbation Monday is created and run by Kayla Lords.

Pink wand vibrator for a post on why I'm doing 30 Day Orgasm Fun orgasm challenge

Why I’m Doing “30 Day Orgasm Fun”

Published on by Amy1 Comment

It’s April 1st! This means various things. Today is April Fools’ Day. It’s Easter Sunday. It’s one month ’til outdoor fucking starts. But most importantly, it’s the start of Tabitha Rayne’s 30 Day Orgasm Fun not-a-challenge!

I didn’t take part last year, mainly because I didn’t find out about it until it was too late, but this year I’m raring to go… as it were.

Here’s just four reasons why I’m taking part (and why I think you should considering doing so, too).

1. For mental health

There’s no two ways about it – orgasms are great for mental health. They flood the brain and body with happy chemicals and make you feel relaxed, de-stressed and ready to face the world. I’ve written before about using sex as a tool to manage my mental health, and I stand by it as the best natural antidepressant there is. I’ve had a shit mental health time recently, so I’m ready to boost my wellbeing with orgasms.

2. To see if I can

It’s a surprise to precisely no-one, I suspect, that I have an extremely high sex drive and tend to masturbate a lot. But every single day for an entire month? That is unprecedented, even for me. I’m partly doing this as a challenge to myself, to see if it’s actually possible and what happens when I do. #DoingItForScience.

3. To discover some new porn/erotica

If I’m going to be getting off every single day in April, I’m gonna need some new visual and literary stimulation. Anna at Frolic Me has kindly given me a subscription, so I’ll be exploring there and seeing what lovely “inspiration” I can find, as well as delving deeply into my favourite sections of Literotica and Tumblr porn. If anyone has any smutty stories or ethical porn favourites, send them my way! Particularly if they include female orgasm denial, cuckqueaning, humiliation, medical play, or any combination thereof.

4. To be an evil bitch

The thing about my orgasm denial kink is that, much as I love being denied orgasms myself, I also love teasing and denying other submissives. There’s someone lovely I’m currently hoping/tentatively planning to play with, who I think I will likely get to deny before this month is out.

The idea of saying “YOU can’t come, but I have to every day this month for the challenge, so get to work” is… quite fucking hot, to be honest.

So let’s go!

I’ve already had my first orgasm of the first day, though I don’t think it will be my last somehow. Incidentally, I’m keeping a spreadsheet of how the orgasm was achieved (toy/fingers/fucking etc) and any interesting facts, which I will publish at the end of the month.

Sub-Bee's legs in a pair of long black tie-up boots. For a Masturbation Monday story.

Masturbation Monday: “Polish”

Published on by Amy4 Comments

A filthy quickie for Masturbation Monday today, inspired by Sub Bee’s gorgeous pic, which just makes me want to get on my knees and polish a hot Dominant’s 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, sexually, 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.

Image is by Sub-Bee and used with permission.