Tag Archives: good girl

Train guard: face-fucked for fare dodging
It took twelve journeys in the end. I only got fined on three of them, but still – three hundred quid is a pretty hefty blow. Worth it though, to find the guy. The one train guard who’d let me off a fare in exchange for a grope of my tits and a sloppy face-fuck.
This one’s erotic fiction, obviously. I wrote it while I was on a train, which is why that train line gets a mention, but I assure you the guard was incredibly polite and I slammed my laptop shut at light-speed when he came to check my (valid) ticket. Note that this story might contain elements of coercion, if it weren’t for the carefully-written thousand-word intro that I stuck on the front of it to make it a bit more consensual. Feel free to ignore it if you like the non-con/dub-con stuff, or revel in it if you like your stories more consensual and your heroines more gleefully slutty.

Guest blog: The Beast makes aggressive use of his slut
Occasionally readers complain when I do content notes, because they think that content notes are a way to turn people off a story – a ‘danger’ sign that tells you not to enter because here be dragons – or Beasts. This week’s incredible guest blog, by Kinky Goldfish, in which he indulges a fantasy shared with a lover about letting the primal, aggressive Beast within him drive a powerful kink scene, requires many content notes. And I promise with my whole heart that they will make today’s guest blog more popular, not less. Although content notes, on a blog like mine, sometimes function as ‘warnings’ so a few readers without those kinks can click on past, more commonly their effect is the same as a sales pitch. Like a big sign which says ‘don’t press the big red button’ tempts you to reach out and touch it. So yeah. Today’s guest blog includes vicious birching and hardcore kink. Public exposure and humiliation and aggressive anal sex. Keep out of the big scary castle. Do not read corrupting pornography. Whatever you do, don’t unleash The Beast.
This post contains public exposure, BDSM, birching, stinging nettles, degradation, humiliation, unlubed anal and piss. It is erotic fiction and you shouldn’t try any of this without having in-depth consent chats with your partner and anyone else involved in the scene (including those who will see it playing out).

The Queen of the Dungeon takes me for a belting
I don’t know how long it’s been since I was last properly belted. A year at least, maybe two. It’s not the end of the world. I love kink, and I adore being used and abused, but my desires are incredibly responsive, so I’m far less concerned about finding a relationship that ticks off all the spanky acts on my submissive wishlist than I am about building connection with someone I love. Still. One of the nice things about leaving a relationship is remembering all the opportunities that you once packed away with a shrug, which you can now dust off again. And as I rummage through a box marked ‘things I can do now I’m single’, getting belted just happens to lie on the top. Luckily for me, a mate made it her mission to drag me up off the floor from the pool of wine and tears in which I was lying, and force me outside to have fun. Let me tell you about my friend, the Queen of the Dungeon.

Guest blog: Slutty Cinderella does a very thorough job
I’m not gonna lie, I absolutely lost my mind at one key moment in this piece. Nearly slid right off my office chair and onto a crumpled, horny heap on the floor. Please welcome back the fabulous Komplicated Kitty, who some of you might remember from her red-hot piece ‘bring it, babe‘ back in November. She’s here today with an account of another intensely sexy BDSM scene, in which her Master orders her into her collar, and then to go clean the kitchen floor. Read on for humiliation, degradation and one very slutty Cinderella…

My shirt becomes her shirt
This fabulously hot story about kink, ownership, longing and a shirt is written and read by the brilliant JM Seaborn of WrittenInKink. Note that it contains ‘Daddy’ as an honorific, all participants are over 18.
She doesn’t have to be up yet. She’s still in bed. One leg hanging invitingly outside of the blanket. I have to ignore it because I’m late for work and there is no time to climb back into bed and add to the bruises I gave her last night.