Heat wave daydream time: everything’s melting, including my brain, and there’s very little I can do to conjure blog ideas when I’m sitting in my knickers sweating soup. But yesterday just as I lay down in bed, I had a very powerful horny image. Instead of trying to write that into a proper blog post, I’m just going to write a string-of-consciousness story prompted by that flash-frame idea: him stopping me in the hallway, making me face the wall and arch my back, yanking down my shorts and knickers then roughly lubing me up to get fucked in the ass.

This is a fantasy, it’s very consensual, and in fact it’s at the more consensual end of things I tend to wank about. But the first half has notes of dubious consent so don’t read on if that’s likely to distress you. Also contains: butt plugs, threats of anal as punishment, fetishisation of thick cocks. 

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It’s cold, so he wears gloves. He’s trying out new ‘looks’ lately, so they’re leather. Well… the vegan equivalent of leather at any rate. Soft, black, expensive. They cushion and protect his palms when he thwacks me on the arse.

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“Breathe for me,” he says, all soft-dom calm and patient. I’m lying on my back and his dick is almost inside me. It’s taken a lot of work for us to get to this point. And by ‘work’ I mean, of course, ‘fun’. I’ll explain all that in a second, but for now just know that I’m lying on my back, folded in half, and he’s got his hands on my thighs. Holding my ass at the perfect angle for him to slip his cock in with least resistance. There is still resistance, though, because he’s got girth and I’m lacking in practice. That’s where the meditative breathing comes in.

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It’s 11:24 in the evening, and we’ve already had a phenomenal time. A card, a cute gift, cake even. A devastating fuck that was as playful as it was brutal, which ended in him thoroughly draining his balls nice and deep in my cunt. Off the back of a week when I’ve been showered with kind words and birthday wishes from friends and family, I can’t remember the last time I felt this lucky and calm. Happy, sated and loved. And there are 36 minutes of my birthday still to go, so I ask him: “will you do exactly as I ask until it ends?” Yes, he will. Of course he will. Even though he quite rudely specifies ‘within reason’. As if I’d be anything other than reasonable in my requests…

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Of all the fantasies I’ve written on this blog, I think ‘free use secretary’ was the one that caused most people to contact me saying ‘I have this one too!’. I was surprised and delighted by how many of you share similar fantasies, and I massively appreciate you making me feel less like a grubby little perv for sharing some of the free use secretary’s more intense adventures. As I’ve said before, she’s not real, she’s my fuckpuppet. And I enjoy being able to play with my fuckpuppets – giving them plotlines that would be either undesirable or impossible to achieve in real life. But she’s had a bit of a rough time of it, the free use secretary, hasn’t she? She is basically the recipient of some of the darker misogynist kinks that I work through via wanking. Part 6 ended with her getting emotionally as well as physically degraded, and that’s the last of the scenarios that I currently have on rotation in the old wank cinema. But in writing these pieces I grew fonder of my secretary, and I figured after all that work she deserved a better finale. This isn’t a story that existed before I started sharing her on the blog, but it’s floated in my head ever since I hit ‘publish’ on the third or fourth. It’s a very different fantasy to the ones I actually wank to, but it made me smile when I wrote it, and although (or perhaps because) it is as basic and lizard-brain as all the other stories in this series, I feel like it’s a fitting way to end this grubby tale. Here’s free use secretary 7 – the sunset.

If you’d prefer to hear this as audio, it’s currently available on Patreon (£2/$2 is the lowest tier).

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