He’s alone in his office when she walks in. Shattered, trashed, spent, and covered in cum, when she nudges the door open she knows exactly how she looks. The dishevelled, post-fuck, ruined look on her face pairs well with the tattered remains of the shirt she once wore. The mess of her hair is a crowning glory of sluttery and shame. The bar, the beer, the men, the degradation… all of it happened as a prelude to this moment. She walks into his office, raises her eyes to meet his, and receives one simple instruction: “Confess.”

Note this story contains beating, punishment, consensual BDSM and humiliation. 

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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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