You know the drill by now: parts one and two had our free use secretary interviewed (and used) then working (and used). Part three is all about showing her off. In this section, she’s not just an executive office toy for her horny and demanding boss – in this part there are clients to impress. Note that this story contains some pretty aggressive misogyny (I have a kink for misogyny! Read that piece if you want to understand a bit more about the stories in this wank tales series), along with choking, free use, groping, casual sexual harassment, spitroasting, dodgy societal tropes about cock size and masculinity, unlubed (or barely lubed) anal and very dubious consent. It is not in any way a recommendation on how to treat people in real life, and should only ever be enjoyed in a safe and consensual playspace, such as inside your head. I am including the most specific and detailed content notes that I possibly can here, so hopefully absolutely no one who reads on will be taken by surprise by what transpires in this scene. As I say: consent in sex writing matters. What’s more, please understand: in real life I’d despise these men, and utterly abhor their behaviour. These fuckpuppets are characters I created – they only exist in my head and on this page. If you choose to invite them into your own head too, I’m going to assume you’re doing that on the full understanding that this is fantasy, not a recipe for real life.

(more…)

This delicious fantasy about being the ‘backstage girl’ is written and read by the fabulous Barefoot Sub, and originally appeared on her website. 

There I was, outside the door that would take me to him. I had dreamt about this moment since he first came into my life, since the first time I was allowed to see him, albeit a photograph. Though the fantasy that I knew would never be brought to reality had been deep-rooted since my teens, being invited to one of his gigs was almost as good. I could stand in the crowd, listen to him play, watch his fingers dance over the frets knowing exactly what those fingers could do. I would mirror those fingers as I followed my instructions, to edge myself during the course of his set. I wasn’t allowed to orgasm, but he wanted to be able to find my eyes and see my heat through the crowd.

(more…)

This fabulous story about getting gangbanged is written and read by Ariadne Awakes. Note: everything that happens to the narrator is pre-planned and entirely consensual.

Each time I hear another pair of footsteps entering wherever it is that he’s handcuffed me, my heart skips another beat and my clit throbs. They don’t speak, but I can feel the air charged with their need, their smell, their lust.

(more…)

I want to be filled up with spunk. That’s it, really: that’s the blog post. Right now I am utterly and completely obsessed with grabbing a dude by the lapels, dragging him towards me so my lips are right against his ear and I can breathe in that horny scent of him, then growling in his ear “please fill me with your spunk.” Not just one guy, either: ideally he’d be one of many. I want to get filled up with spunk, and the more spunk there is, the better.

Note: the fantasy mentioned at the start of this piece may touch on some themes that are a teeny bit non-consensual. They’re technically extremely consensual, because I wank about them, and if this scene were to happen in real life (pleasepleaseplease), it would only happen if everyone were fully on board with the role play.

(more…)

Recently someone emailed me a question that went a little something like this: “you’ve alluded to wanting a spitroast/gang bang before. But there are clubs in London where this happens every night! Why don’t you just go to one of those?!” It is not an uncommon question, and I suspect it’s one that quite a lot of horny, slutty women get asked, so I thought I’d have a crack at answering it. I don’t think everyone will feel the same way I do, but (with thanks to the person who asked the question) here’s why this pervy woman isn’t in sex clubs every night.

(more…)