The following post involves intense BDSM, in a violent role play context, and it is also incredibly beautifully (and consensually) written. I don’t know that there are many people who could write the scene below well enough to balance consent and fear, but BibulousOne and EuclideanPoint are both fantastic sex writers and kinksters who I admire hugely. When they sent through their pitch about this incredible kinky interrogation scene, I found myself simultaneously nervous and also deeply excited. And to me that’s often what the best BDSM scenes are all about: the intersection of pleasure and pain, fear and excitement. This story absolutely took my breath away. Not just for the intensity of the scene itself but from the careful and consensual way they go about explaining its origins. Huge thanks to both of them for sharing this stunning kinky interrogation…

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I am so delighted to welcome Dissembling Cub back to the blog. Their last piece, on bottom euphoria, was absolutely spectacular and deeply horny. This new post – about birching, the history of it as well as a stunningly hot account of a birching scene – took my breath away so hard it was almost like I was the one being thrashed. If you enjoy DC’s work you should also check out their fabulous long-form story The Forthenby Inheritance: an erotic comedy of manners set in the Regency period. Meanwhile please, oh my God please, enjoy the fuck out of this stunning guest blog. The image that illustrates this piece, by the way, is the actual hazel birch from the story.

Note: this story contains references to birching as corporal punishment – in a historical (non-consensual) context as well as a modern (and consensually kinky) one. It also refers to a ‘schoolboy scene’ and school role play, but all participants are over the age of 18. 

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This gorgeous fantasy about a princess submitting to a public caning is written and read by Pandora Blake. It originally appeared on Dreams of Spanking and is being reproduced here with permission. Note: contains extreme caning, humiliation, 

The road to Zadir was dry and dusty. Sometimes they would stop at one of the walled caravanserais lining the spice road, and Tabina would rinse the sand from her hair and enjoy a day or two of feeling relatively fresh. But no sooner were they on the road again than the wind would start to slap against the canvas coverings, and they would snap and flap until a corner was tugged away, and then the dust and sand would swirl in and they would both be covered all over again.

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This gorgeous story about caring kink and a Plague Doctor mask is written by The Queer Earthling, and read aloud here by My Wild Lens. Content note: this story features intense impact, COVID-19 mentions, D/s dynamics including “Daddy”, and medical play (kinda).

It’s my metamour’s fault, really. He’s the one who asked Damien to take a picture in their plague doctor outfit, so he could use it as a desktop wallpaper.

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There are marks on my thighs, on my arse, on my tits, and on my brain. All of those marks will fade. I could take pictures of the first three, but I’m terrible at photos, and even my very best attempts can’t hope to capture the things I really want to remember. The ache in my limbs and the sting of the flogger and the satisfaction of being held down and fucked. The all-encompassing, electric joy of getting ruined by two people at once.

This post features BDSM and impact play, some of it quite vicious. All of it extremely consensual. I don’t know how well I have written consent into this story, because I am too busy trying to capture the things that happened, but yeah… please understand that holy shit this is all consensual-as-fuck. It was more than consensual: it was a fucking gift.

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