I ask: “please will you hurt me?” and he stares down into my face. In contrast to my own childish eagerness, I always find this particular guy disarmingly grown-up. When I ask him to hurt me he replies, simply: “How?”. It’s not confusion, it’s a flex. He knows there are many ways to hurt me, and this feels like a way to neatly work in consent – giving me the task of articulating my desires aloud. In the moment I can’t work out how – my mind is just a blur of want. For him specifically. His strong arms, powerful muscles. The dominant way he carries himself. Combined, these attributes give a tall woman like me that precious, rare feeling of being outgunned. So I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind: “Just… fight me for it.”

Note: this post involves a super hot fuck that hinges on consensual non-consent, i.e. me pretending I don’t want to get fucked when actually I really do. The man who features in it knows this, and would not play this way with me unless he was confident I could (and would) withdraw consent if it all got too much. This post is not a ‘how-to’ manual on kinky fucking, there’s a lot of background chat behind this kind of sex.

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A few hours before we’re due to go out, I’m pottering around the flat and these two hot people are hanging out in the living room. You’ve met these filthy fucks already – a few months ago they absolutely annihilated me in the kinkiest threesome I’ve ever been treated to. I choose that phrasing carefully: it really was a treat. Like a brutal sports massage for my masochistic subby side, performed by depraved heroes who really leant in to my request: ‘please ruin me.’

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Hands up: I confess I’ve been guilty of taking sex far too seriously. In the past, when I was young and awkward and terrified of being laughed at, I found it hard to see why I should bring laughter into the bedroom. These days, though, thanks to some fabulously laid-back, horny people, there are plenty of bursts of giggly joy in my bedroom. Few that are as creative as some of @ht_honey‘s amazing examples, though! You may remember Honey from this awesome piece about subdrop. Well, today she’s back with an absolutely gorgeous piece on the joy of giggling during a kink scene. I challenge you to read right through to the end without breaking into a massive grin…

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As ever, when Jenby’s name pops up in my inbox, I strap in for what is definitely gonna be a fun and kinky ride. In the past, she has treated us to such awesome stories as being a service sub stashed under the table during a poker game, being hypnotised into becoming a bimbo, as well as literally being surveilled using smart tech in one of the most creatively-horny scenes I have ever had the privilege to read about. Honestly, it’s just all absolute gold and I am honoured that Jen (@JenetalTorture on Twitter) is kind enough to share her adventures here. Today’s piece is all about being put under lock and key: trapped, teased and tortured.

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This stunning tickling kink erotica is written and read by Molly Moore, and originally appeared on her website. 

He points at the bed.

“Lay down.”

It’s a request, not a command, but I take up his offer. The messages he had sent me earlier today gave me the distinct impression he had plans for me tonight. Not a punishment as such – we don’t play like that – but maybe ‘a lesson to learn’ is a better phrase.

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