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This week in kink news: March 29, 2021

March 26, 2021 By Desdemona 2 Comments

India gets its first legal sex shop!

Click below to learn more from Outlook!


Pastry chef turned Dominatrix?

Click below to find out more of her story with Daily Star!


It’s so imperative that people know the difference between BDSM and abuse. The two are quite different.

BDSM always involves consent. Abuse involves unwanted, non-consensual behavior.

Click below to read more from The Conversation!


Have some kinky news to share? Tell us about any upcoming BDSM events, new products, dungeon openings / closings, kink in mainstream media, and anything else you think kinky folks might be interested to hear about. Send your tips through to kinkweekly@gmail.com, and it might just end up on next week’s “This Week in Kink.”

Tagged With: bdsm, bdsm community, bdsm play, bdsm scene, bdsm toys, boundaries, consensual, consent, dominatrix, fetish, hard limits, kink, kinky toys, negotiations, sex toys, Sex Work Community, sex worker rights, sex workers, sexual fantasy, sexual safety, soft limits

This week in kink: March 22, 2021

March 21, 2021 By Desdemona 2 Comments

We have all had to adjust during the pandemic including those in the lifestyle.

With this being said, click below to learn more about the virtual spaces that have opened up during these uncertain times from Lavender.

Leather Life: Virtual Leather

Check out Les Chandelles, an exclusive swingers and BDSM club with Daily Star.

Click below to find out more!


Check out these kinky, British hotels from The Sun!

Click below to learn more!


Have some kinky news to share? Tell us about any upcoming BDSM events, new products, dungeon openings / closings, kink in mainstream media, and anything else you think kinky folks might be interested to hear about. Send your tips through to kinkweekly@gmail.com, and it might just end up on next week’s “This Week in Kink.”

Tagged With: bdsm, bdsm community, bdsm play, dungeon, fetish, kink, Kink Community, Leather Community, sex, sexual expression, sexual fantasy, sexual safety, swingers, virtual bdsm

When The Kink Doesn’t Click

February 27, 2021 By Elyssa Helfer 3 Comments

power exchange couple with ribbon
via stock.adobe.com

Picture this; you have just finished a date with the person that you just started seeing and are about to be intimate for the first time. You are super excited because things have been going extremely well between the two of you. They have the qualities that you have been searching for in a partner and you are starting to feel confident that perhaps they will be someone who will remain in your life long term. You cannot wait to move the relationship from a romantic space to an intimate one and then you are hit with it; your kinks are not compatible. Perhaps you are a submissive and were hoping that their dominant traits would continue into the bedroom or maybe you are a Sadist and they have an aversion to pain. What does this fundamental incompatibility mean for your future with this person? Is it possible to make things work?

Kink incompatibility can be incredibly frustrating to discover when already invested in a person emotionally. Often, we create a vision for what our intimate life will look like with our partner/s and when that expectation does not become a reality, it can send us into a tailspin, doubting the very relationship that we have grown to love. The question remains; can a relationship work between two people whose kinks are fundamentally different? The short answer is yes. However, in order for the needs of both (or more) partners to be met, there will be work to do. 

First and foremost, it is important to discover not only what kinks your partner may have, but what it is about those kinks that is appealing to them. For example, if your partner identifies as a submissive, it may be helpful to ask what type of submissive they are. What do they gain from their submission and what accompanies it? Often, our kink identities are complex and to begin working through the incompatibilities, it is important that all aspects of one’s identity are discussed. Once these topics are covered, we may be able to use some of this information in later stages. 

Understanding why someone has the kink they do can also be immensely helpful in the discovery process. For example, if one partner is interested in cucking but the other is not, deeply understanding what it is about the cuck fantasy can be very helpful. If they enjoy the humiliation the most, can that be integrated into the relationship without bringing in an additional person? What sort of things have humiliated them in the past? Can roleplay be enough to satisfy the need for humiliation? These types of questions are what can get us to discover the depths of our partners’ kinks and we can use that to adjust to meet their needs. 

Next, it can be helpful to understand how much someone is married to their specific kink role. Are they willing to try out new roles? Are they comfortable using toys or equipment that they never considered? This is where limits come into play. Sitting down and discussing what someone may or may not be willing to try can be an excellent way to discover new kinks. This can also happen by watching porn together, reading erotica, checking out online forums where kinks are discussed and more. Creativity is key when trying to find the balance between two kink identities that do not seem to fit together. 

Couples may also want to consider how they define their relationship structure and agreement. Often, the topic of whether or not a couple will be monogamous is not even discussed, as monogamy is the societal standard that frequently dictates how relationships will look. This does not need to be the case. Each couple has the ability to determine how the structure of their relationship will exist and sometimes, being open (whether monogamish, polyamorous, or otherwise) can allow for more needs to be met. Keep in mind, this does not need to be in a sexual way!  If one partner is a Sadist who craves spanking play, they may be able to find themselves a spanking partner who only exists in that play space and does not involve any sex whatsoever. This can take pressure off of the partner who has no interest in that type of play and allow the other partner to have the need met that is not being satisfied in the relationship. This type of additional partner works well when one partner has an interest and the other does not. However, what happens when both parties identify as the same role?

For this issue, integrating additional individuals may also be of help. For example, if both partners in a relationship are submissive, it may be possible for them to find a third Dominant partner who uses their power to Dom partner A into topping partner B or vice versa. This can allow for the intercourse to remain between the couple but also allow for the dynamic to be at play. Both partners will be in a submissive role and the third party may derive pleasure from their participation. Keep in mind, all parties involved must consent to absolutely everything! 

Lastly, when all other options seem to have been exhausted, it may be time to check in with a professional. Couples counseling, with a kink specialized therapist, can be incredibly helpful for couples struggling to get on the same page about their erotic lives. There is no shame in seeking additional support and a kink specialized therapist will likely have worked with this issue before.

Overall, kink incompatibility is certainly a tough issue to work through but it does not mean that a relationship is doomed to fail. Like so many other things that come up in relationships, this takes work, patience and understanding. With communication, creativity and respect, we can create relationships where needs are met and all folks are satisfied! 


Elyssa Helfer is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist specializing in the Kink and Alternative Lifestyle community. She is a writer, lecturer and advocate for sexual empowerment and sexual freedom. She has a private practice in Los Angeles, CA and is dedicated to shifting the narrative about both the mental health and Kink community.

Tagged With: bdsm, bdsm play, bdsm scene, fetish, kink, sexual fantasy

This week in kink: January 18, 2021

January 17, 2021 By Desdemona 2 Comments

This week Shireen Khalil writes about Sherry Lever, a 69 year old, thriving Dominatrix.

It’s true that age is just a number!

Click below to read more of Sherry’s riveting story!


BDSM has gotten more exposure over the years.

Whether you like the show or not, the Netflix show, Bonding is bringing BDSM and sex work more into the public eye.

With this being said, Showbiz CheatSheet, exposes the inner workings of this series.

Click below to find out more!

‘Bonding’: A Look at the True Story Behind Netflix’s Dominatrix Comedy

yahoo lifestyle! reports that BDSM is the most popular kink with folks over 60.

BDSM is definitely not reserved for the youngsters! Anyone and everyone is welcome!

Click below to read more about these intriguing findings!


Have some kinky news to share? Tell us about any upcoming BDSM events, new products, dungeon openings / closings, kink in mainstream media, and anything else you think kinky folks might be interested to hear about. Send your tips through to kinkweekly@gmail.com, and it might just end up on next week’s “This Week in Kink.”

Tagged With: bdsm, bdsm play, bdsm relationship, bdsm scene, consensual, consent, fetish, masochism, sadism, sado-masochist, sadomasochism, sex, Sex Work Community, sex worker rights, sex workers, sexual fantasy, sexual safety

Piggie’s Day Out

January 17, 2021 By Joji Sada 2 Comments

big little cute woman with pigtails and teddy bear
via stock.adobe.com

***All works of erotica are fictional. We NEVER condone anything that is not consensual.


You have talked about this trip for months.

It started in passing.  You wanted to go visit some of your old haunts.  You wanted to see what had changed, who was still there, and surprise a few members of your leather family.

I was excited for you.

It’s not often you get the chance to be free Sir.  For you to take even these three days to visit is out of the ordinary. 

You were all set.  You asked me to book you a room.  After all, you cannot surprise family if you ask ahead of time to stay there.

I booked you a room with a king size bed, located only a few doors from the jacuzzi.  Long trips like this are murder on your body.  I know you will need to relax, and the heat will help you.

About a month ago, you asked me to come with.  I was surprised.  You had been looking forward to some time to yourself.  I did not wish to be underfoot.

You told me it was my decision.  Logically, you planned on taking some gear to use at a party and you would appreciate the help but would not force me to go.

I knew I was going the minute you asked.  Even kneeling quietly in a corner while you played would be enjoyable to me.  

I like watching you play Sir.

Course, I have never met a girl who was not mesmerized by you.


It is Friday now.  We are up before the sun, packing the van with your gear, our clothes, and a small cooler with drinks and snacks.

We have seven hours of driving ahead of us.  I am not looking forward to that.  I am worried I will get motion sick, like I often do, but you seem far less worried.

I run downstairs and say my goodbyes to the family, stopping to grab a jacket.  I know it will be cold for a while.

I lay my jacket in the car and I hear you call me into the garage.  I figured you needed my help.

I was wrong.

I stepped through the open door and one hand is on the back of my neck while your other covers my mouth.

You stare me down and get close to my face.

“Shh.  From this point out, you are in service mode.  You will worry about nothing.  Is that understood?”. You remove your hand from my mouth.

“Yes Sir”. My voice is breathy.  It often is when you take control so suddenly.

“Good.  Bend over and pull your panties down.”

The garage door is wide open.  Anyone could see us.  But it’s been less than a minute since you told me I am in service mode and I have no desire to start the trip on a bad note.

I bent over, pulling my short black sun dress up my back and my lace panties to my knees.

Two of your fingers rub across my clit.  You know I have no control. A few short strokes and then you plunged your fingers right inside me.  I gritted my teeth.  I have always been tight, and I cannot naturally lube.  We both know it hurts without preparation.

You finger fuck me until I am trying to push back against you.  

“Still.”

I whined softly.  I do not wish to be caught but I am always desperate when you touch me.

I felt something round press against my cunt.  It slips inside with only a bit of pressure.

You replace my panties and prompt me to stand up.  I am pulled back against your chest and your lips rest against my ear.

“That will stay in place until I say otherwise.  Did you pack the rest of what I asked?”

“Yes Sir,” I responded, thinking of both the clothespins and the clover clamps in my purse.

This is going to be an interesting ride and we have not even left yet.


We have been on the road for about two hours now and I don’t know how much longer I can take this.  Without so much as a word, you keep turning on the toy you slipped  inside of me.  I should have known it would be more involved than just keeping me filled for the trip.

Fast pulses until I am nearing the edge.  Then you cut the power.  My body convulses with the sudden stop.  I know better than to cum without permission.  Even if you are pushing my body to the limit, repeatedly.

Four hours in and my body is beyond tense.  You have been edging me continuously for the whole trip.  Soon, we see a sign that says we are five miles from the next town.  Your game intensifies.

“We are going to stop for gas and to get a drink.”  When you smile, I know that is not all that will be happening.

“Yes, Sir”

“Take the clamps out of your purse and put them on.”  You wait patiently as I do as instructed.  I gasp a little at the pressure.  The clover clamps bite hard on my tender flesh and press uncomfortably against my piercings.  I have never made it more than an hour in these, and that was pushing myself to tears.  “Now, slip your panties off.”  Just as I start removing them, you turn the toy to high and I squeeze my legs together just to gain some semblance of control.  I slide them down kick them from my ankles.  I move to pick them up, but you tell me to leave them.  

“When we stop, you are going to go inside and get us drinks.  Take your time sweetie, I will be waiting.”

My head drops down to my chest.  I know that my cheeks are turning a soft shade of red.  You know how much this embarrasses me to be so underdressed in public.

“What’s a matter sweetie?”

“Nothing, Sir.  I am feeling very shy.”

“Awww, poor little piggie.”

That just turns me an even brighter red.  I enjoy being your little piggie, but I am extremely shy outside of our home.  You love pushing me to face that embarrassment.

It is only a few miles to the gas station, and I am already feeling the bite of the clamps.  I close my eyes, trying to breathe through the pain.  Of course, you knew what I was trying to do.  You prefer when I stay in the moment.  

Suddenly, I feel your hand slap down onto my bare thigh.  My eyes fly open and I grunt from the force.  I look at you and you are simply grinning, keeping your eyes on the road.  I look down to my leg and I can see the outline of your palm.  The imprint won’t stay long but I will feel the smack for a long while.

We pull to a stop before I realize we have arrived.  I grab my wallet and my mask.  I still find it ironic that my face is covered but the rest of me is bare beneath my dress.  I am slow to close the passenger door after I get out and you raise an eyebrow at me.  

I take a deep breath, turn around, and head inside.  I have never felt like my dress was too short or revealing as I have at this moment.  It feels like all the eyes are on me.  My hands nervously tuck at the hem of my dress, tugging it down.  I kneel down slowly to get our drinks.  They are always on the bottom of the cooler, but you knew that.  I curse you under my breath as the vibrations start up again.  I grab the drinks and my legs wobble slightly as I try to stand.  

You are impossible, Sir.

I slowly make my way up to the counter.  I wave away a kind strangers concern at how I am walking.  I must look a right sight.  I breathe deeply as I wait for my turn to pay.  It is instances like this that I am thankful my face is covered. 

I swipe my card and offer my thanks as I grab my bag.  I walk as quickly as I can to the car without raising suspicion.  I reach for the handle, only to find the door locked.  I look through the window and you are staring at me with your fingers on the lock.  The toy surges to its highest setting and my forehead drops against the window.  I am going to collapse at this rate.  My legs are shaking, and my breathing is getting erratic.

I know you can see me whispering against the window.  It is a continuous litany of “please” and “Sir.”  I am not even sure if I am asking to finally be allowed an orgasm or if I just want inside the car.  After a couple of minutes, I hear the lock click open.  I open the door and climb inside.  

“What took you so long sweetie?”  

I just glare at you as you chuckle.  You are far too amused by this.

I pop the top on your drink as you pull away from the gas station.  You have silenced the toy for now but without the distraction, I am starting to feel the intense pain of the clamps.  They have been on nearly twenty minutes now.  I can feel the pain radiating into my back.  

“Sir, may I remove the clamps?”

“When we reach city limits.”

I close my eyes.  That is nearly five miles.  Red light after red light, five miles is a very long time.

Two miles down and I am unsure if I can do this any longer.  “Please, Sir.”

“No.  You are almost there sweetie.  You can do this.”  Deep breath.

I am watching the street signs intently.  Another mile down.  My hands have curled into a fist.  You have kept the toy silent for a reason.  You want me to experience the pain without distraction.  You want me to endure it.  You want me to know that I can.

One mile to go.  My body is stoic.  Every movement antagonizes the clamps.  The cloth of my dress is nearly unbearable.

As soon as we crossed the city limits, I was ready to remove them.  “Please Sir.  May I remove them now?”  Its always better to double check with you.  I never know if you will have changed your mind and start something even more wicked.

“Yes, you may.  You did good.”

I removed them and immediately press my palms against my nipples as the blood rushed back into them.  It is so intense.  All I want to do is be allowed to orgasm.  I know that is a long time away.  But a girl can dream.


It has been a long trip Sir.  My body is exhausted.  You have been edging me for eight hours, if we include the stops we made.  My skin is so sensitive.  My dress feels heavy and the slight breeze makes my knees quiver.  You have had the toy tease me, pushed me with my clamps, and had me tease myself openly on the drive.  I can tell you that seats are high enough that I am positive I was on full display.  Is that why we took the roads that are crowded with semi-trucks?

You get us checked in to the hotel.  We are not meeting anyone else until tomorrow.  So, this should be a good chance to relax.

I should have known better.


Once everything is put away, you take a seat in the wingback chair near the window.  The curtains are drawn, and you ask me to come stand in front of you.  You sit forward slightly, and your hands wrap around my thighs, resting on my ass.  I stand silently, waiting for your instruction.

You pull one hand back and bring it up to cover my cunt.  My eyes rest on the top of your head and my hands come up to your shoulder as you smack my lips hard. Two, three, four times.  Your fingers slip between my lips as my fingers tighten on your shoulders.  My legs are shaking as I hold myself still. You slide over my clit.  Its so sensitive from all the teasing.  I can feel the pulsing in my back.  You slide forward and I feel you hook the toy and pull it.  I feel so swollen and the tugging hurts.  You bring your other hand off my ass and snap twice.  

With relief, I let my legs give out and drop to my knees.  My eyes go to the floor and my hands rest on my thighs.

Your fingers come up to my lips and I suck them clean without hesitation.  Once you are satisfied, you bring the toy to my lips and I repeat the process.  You pull it from my mouth and drop it into my hands.  My head drops forward onto your knees as I steady myself.   

You run your fingers through my hair and speak softly.  “When you are settled, I want you to crawl to the bathroom and leave the toy by the sink to be cleaned later.  Then I want you to crawl to the door and bring back the bag I left there.  Do you understand, piggie?”

I nod my head.  Your fingers tighten in my hair and pull my head back to look you in the eye.  “Care to try that again?”

“Yes, Sir.  I understand, Sir.”

You let my hair go and I relax back into position.  I appreciate that you are letting me settle into my role.  It has been so long since I have been in continuous service like this.  My head is in its confused state.  It is where I can still feel the pain and sensitivity, but my mind has yet to clear of everyday stress.  I need this.  I need to just be here, with you, and forget everything else.

Thank you for knowing me as you do.

I think I am ready now.


I lift my head from your knee and slip the toy between my teeth.  I turn and start crawling to the bathroom.  In no time at all, I bring the small black bag to you.  It is heavy between my teeth, but I am determined not to drop it.

You pull the bag from my grip and stand.  You step around me.  I can hear you laying items on the table, but I have no idea what it could be.  I desperately want to peak but I know better.

I startle slightly when your hand rests on my head.  I am losing myself in service.  My mind is calm, even though my body is still sensitive from play.  I breathe deeply and relax my shoulders.  

I can do anything you ask of me, Sir.  


“Come here piggie.”

I turn and crawl the few feet to you.

“Kneel up.”  Your hands are on my chainmaille collar and I feel the clasp give way.  You slide the metal across my collar bone and down my tummy until you drop it into my hands.  I feel the strip of leather of my formal collar tighten around my neck.  As always, my head tips up to look you in the eye.  You have it tight enough to get my attention and make me gasp.  You loosen it to your liking and buckle it closed.  You tug harshly on the frontmost O-Ring and stare me down.  The longer our eyes meet, the harder it is to keep eye contact.  

It only take a few minutes before you let go of my collar and my body drops heavy back onto my knees.

“Tonight, we are going to have company.”

My eyes widen.  We haven’t done this before Sir.  I mentioned it, just once, when you asked me what one of my deepest desires was.  I told you I wanted to serve you in public.  I wanted to conquer my fears and overcome my shyness, my hesitancy.

But now, I am extremely nervous.

“Look at me.”  I glance up.  “I am going to show off my little piggie.  I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

I look into your eyes and the moments tick by in silence.  You are waiting for an answer.  I am curious if you believe you will hear my agreement or my safeword.  

I have told you I can take anything you have to offer.  I am not ready to back down yet.

“Yes, Sir”


I find myself dressed in my gear.  My ears keep my hair back.  It helps, considering how much you love to see it down.  The silicone nose is situated over my natural nose.  I still hate it with a passion.  The idea of anyone but you seeing this makes me extremely uncomfortable.  My tail is situated snuggly in my ass.  I entirely hate how much I have come to love my tail.  I enjoy any opportunity when I am allowed to wear it.

I am kneeling at your feet, the tail uncomfortably bending and adjusting inside me.

I am facing the door, my head resting on your knee.  My body is tense.  My head is filled with chaos.  I am unsure of how much I want this.  Dreaming it, and doing it, are far different.

Your voice is soft behind me.

“We are going to lay a few ground rules.  Tonight, you are just holes to fill and abuse. You will enthusiastically serve them as you do me.  Your ass is off limits.  Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”  My voice is soft but strong.  I make sure you clearly hear my answer.

“Do you have any questions?”

“No, Sir.”

Your fingers tighten in my hair and you pull my head back just enough to look at you.  “I know you will make me proud, little piggie.”  Your fingers release me hair and hook into my collar.  “This means you are mine.  I will always take care of you.”

“Thank you, Master.  I needed to hear that.”

You smile.  It is always a highlight of my day to see your smile.  It is so rare and you are always so reserved.

“Now, my little piggie slut, up on the bed with you.”  I crawl over to the bed and climb onto it, staying on all fours.  “They are going to be here soon.  I want you to relax for me.”  You remove my ears momentarily and put the hood over my face.  It is the one thing that makes me lose myself.  I hear nothing but the blood rushing through my ears.  I see nothing but the darkness of my eyelids.  I taste nothing as long as you keep the zipper closed.  You replace my ears and place a kiss to the top of my head.  “Lay down and rest.  I will wake you when it is time.”

With his blessing, I close my eyes and regulate my breathing.  A nap will do me good after everything today.


I woke to my body being bodily flipped onto my tummy.  There were hands on both my legs and they pushed them forward until I was forced onto my knees.  My face stayed against the mattress and my hands were caught underneath me. 

There are hands everywhere.  My breathing is erratic, and I am trying to figure out what is happening.  The zipper on my hood is undone and there is a thumb put into my mouth, pushing my tongue and jaw downward.

As soon as I felt it, I knew it was Master.  That is how he tests my self-control.  He will hold it for as long as possible to make sure I do not lick or suck without permission.  Being allowed to suck on his thumb is a rare reward.  I am oddly comforted under the pain. 

I feel fingers on my backside.  Someone is playing with the tail.  Every time they tug at it, or bounce it, it shifts inside me.  Then, without warning, there are two fingers inside of me.  I am unable to lube naturally.  I am guessing someone realized that as suddenly I felt someone spit on me.  I could feel it dripping down and it was warm as they pushed it inside of me.  

There was little prep.  Less than a minute later, there is a hard cock pressing into my semi-dry passage. I feel uncomfortably stretched.  I gasp sharply and as the man behind me starts to thrust harshly, there is a cock put to my lips.  There is a hand on the back of my head, adding pressure as they pushed as far back into my throat as they could.  My stomach and throat convulsed as my gag reflux was affected.  I inhaled through my nose as best I could, but the jarring movement, from the fucking, was making it hard to concentrate.

I tried to remember what Master had said.  That I would serve them enthusiastically.  I pulled back when he let my head go and brought myself up to my hands and knees.  Not knowing where anyone was, I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue.

It is not long before there is a cock in my mouth again.  I am unsure if it the same person or not.  I do not know how many people Master invited over.  I bob my head, licking and sucking.  I want to make Master proud.  I am never happier than when I get to use my mouth.

I felt the guy behind me grip tight to my hips as he finished.  It eased the burn of the next one who took his place.  I’ve never been fucked so roughly.  I am slightly panicked because I do not know where Master is.  I trust he would not have left me alone, but I miss his touch right now.  

I feel so full.  It is brutal.  I know that I will most definitely feel this tomorrow.

I lose count quickly of how they rotate.  My jaw is sore, and my head keeps getting pulled in different directions to be fucked.

At some point, someone pulls my ears from my head and the hood is yanked roughly from me.  I close my eyes against the light.  I can hear the murmuring of one of the men.  “She really is a pig, isn’t she?  Look at the nose.”

I can hear Master chuckle.  “She is my little piggie slut.  She is such a dirty piggie.”

I can hear myself mewl at his words.  It both embarrasses me and makes me whine in agreement.  I am dirty and I would do anything for Master.  

I was flipped onto my back, my head hanging off the bed.  One thrust down my throat and another into my swollen cunt.  My hands were grabbed and placed on another.  I wrapped my fingers around him and started stroking.  At least I now have a number.  Master invited three people to have free reign of my body.  

“Do not come down her throat.  Piggies are meant to be dirty.”  Master ordered.

And as he ordered, one covered my stomach and the other my breasts with their cum.  The third filled my passage with even more cum.  I could feel it dripping out of me.  I felt tired and use. And dirty.

“Bring her here.”  I felt myself picked up from the bed and tossed bodily to the floor.  My arms were shaking, and I struggled to bring myself to my hands and knees.  “Hold her.”  I felt a boot push press against my back and push me back into the carpet.  My arms went flat above my head.  Another put pressed against my cheek and the last set held my hands in place.

I felt tugging at my tail.  I started to try and struggle.  My knees were pressed into the carpet, under my stomach, by the boot on my back.  I had nowhere to go.  I pulled and pulled but I couldn’t move.

“Please.  Please no.”  I didn’t know who was behind me.  Only Master could touch me there. The tears welled in my eyes.  I wouldn’t be able to get away.  I would fail Master.  “Please, no.”

“Quiet.  I will do as I wish to my little piggie.”  I sobbed at his voice.  The tailed popped from my ass and I felt my walls pulse.  It was weird being empty again. 

You must have read my mind.  Without any extra lube or preparation, you pushed into me until you were fully seated.  It hurt.  Your pace was just as brutal as the others.  “Please, Sir, it hurts.”  I cry.  All I want to do is move away from the pain.  My body is held in place.  My neck is starting to hurt from the position but I am more focused on the pain radiating through my back.  “Please, Sir.  It hurts….it hurts so bad.”

“Hush and push back against me.”  I hear you laugh softly.  “Is piggie stuck?  Isn’t this what you wanted?  To be on a spicket and tenderized?”

I sob again.  I am losing myself in the humiliation.  I feel so exposed.  I hurt and I am filled and covered in cum.  My ass burns.  I am unsure of how much time is passed before I feel your fingers tighten on my hips and you slam deep inside me.  I feel your cum fill my ass.  After you finish, I hear you tell them to release me.  I feel like my body is made of lead.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see you standing over me.  

I shakily push myself up, slower than I would have liked, until I am on my knees.  I open my mouth and gently take your cock into my mouth.  I clean your cock with my tongue and then release you.  

I lean down to the floor and kiss each boot three times.  Then I murmur a soft thank you before kneeling back up.  Our scene is done now.  The adrenaline starts to slow.

My body is shaking.  I am cold now.

You remove the nose from my face and your hand rests on the top of my head.

“You did good, piggie.”


I don’t remember you sending the others home.  I remember falling back to the floor and curling up.  It did not matter that I was covered in cum.  I was exhausted.  I never expected this.  My body shakes from the adrenaline.  

I remember my head being pulled into your lap.  You are talking to me but it is hard to understand.  When I finally come out of the white noise, you offer to run me a bath.  I don’t want to be alone, even if the warm water sounds relaxing.  I shake my head.  Aftercare is the only time you allow me to answer non-verbally.

You move to get up and my hands tighten on your jeans.  “Sir?”

“I am getting a cloth to clean you up.  Then we will curl up and you can get your skin-to-skin contact.”

“Ok.”  I sighed.  

As you come back and start to wipe me down, I am comforted.

You always know what I need, Sir.

Even as I feel worn down, swollen, and somewhat broken, I know you will always be there to pick me up and put me back together.  

You pick me up and place me on the bed.  You make sure I am covered, so the shivering will stop soon.  As you crawl in with me, you beckon me over.  I curl my head onto your tummy and hand rubs my back reassuringly.

I feel my head go fuzzy and as I start to drift, I slur out the question I seem to ask every time. “piggie do good?”

I am positive I hear you laugh ever so slightly as you tell me “Yes, you are my good girl.”

My eyes drift close and I smile as I fall asleep.  

You will always keep me safe.  

I can rest now.


My name is Joji.  I am 29 years old currently and I have been in and around the kink community about 15 years.I am a collared submissive to Magick42.  I am also a Daddy to a wonderful babygirl, and have been for more than three years now and I find it very fulfilling.  I am being mentored in and being taught electroplay.  I am a masochist at heart and thoroughly love impact play, especially caning.  I enjoy reading anything I can get my hands on and am a die hard Harry Potter and Doctor Who fan.  I am also the secretary for a group in Idaho called Moscow S.P.A.R.K.E (Simply Providing Another Route to Kink Education).  It is our mission to teach safe practices to those new to the community and give them a safe haven to ask questions and learn without judgement.  We accept all kinks and all we ask in return is respect between all our members.

Tagged With: bdsm, bdsm play, bdsm relationship, bdsm scene, daddy dom, fetish, kink, little space, littles, master, power exchange, sex, sexual fantasy, slave, slut training, submissive

Starting The New Year Right

January 10, 2021 By Christmas Bunny 2 Comments

two beautiful slave girls lying in bed awaiting their master
via stock.adobe.com

Interestingly enough, their polycule involved the men as metas.  Both women were submissive to the men, yet together things just work well between them.  The men liked each other quite well, which meant group vacations and dinners worked nicely, the men having their time with the girl each was dating, with the girls holding hands between them.  They were excited to ring in the new year together.

The men had decided on whips, Lacy’s Master whipping her front surgically, while Maggie’s Daddy placed his strikes neatly along her upper back and ass cheeks.  By the end, both women were crying, punctuated by sharp screams.  The men chuckled and wandered off to the kitchen to pour champagne to toast the changing of the year while Maggie crawled on all fours over to her nude and recently striped girlfriend.  She playfully licked Lacy’s nipple.  “Want me to lick your boo boos?” she teased.

Lacy slapped Maggie’s ass, not terribly hard, but hard enough to make her hiss.  Both girls began to laugh, curled around one another on the floor.

The men returned shortly, passing out glasses.  The girls only got a splash, just enough to toast with.  None of them were fans of mixing alcohol with endorphins, but they didn’t want to miss the possibility of good luck for the next year, particularly with as rough as the past year had been.

The seconds ticked by and the men claimed their kisses at midnight, the women acknowledging their dominance first, then turning to kiss one another after.  They all understood the relationship structure quite well.

The four of them stayed awake a while longer, laughing, talking, and watching fireworks over the water, then the men excused themselves to their separate room, leaving the women the rest of the house to themselves.

Normally neither of them was particularly aggressive, but the men had taken care of the warm-up for them.  Nestled on the couch together, Lacy deftly adjusted a leg and slid into Maggie’s embrace, who responded by wrapping her legs around Lacy.  They kissed passionately, happy to have the time together. 

Maggie kissed her way down to Lacy’s striped and perky breasts, avoiding the lash marks.  She rolled one of Lacy’s nipples into her mouth.  She grazed the pierced nipple with her teeth before working it just the way she knew Lacy liked it.  Lacy’s head fell back as she moaned, reaching for her partner to maintain their connected touch.  Lacy tucked a strand of Maggie’s hair behind her ear, then slid that same hand teasingly down the side of her neck, the outer curve of her breast, and down to her spread thighs.

Lacy’s fingers touched wetness and she moaned again in response.  Maggie hummed her pleasure, opening her thighs slightly wider for exploration.  Lacy pressed her fingers into Maggie’s wet cunt, delighting in just how much wetness pooled there.  She slid a glass carrot in to replace her fingers.  “How’s that, baby?” she murmured.  Maggie nodded breathlessly as she hummed again.  

“I want to taste you,” she whispered in response, nudging Lacy to her untouched back, sliding off the edge of the couch to position between Lacy’s legs.  She lowered her mouth to Lacy’s clit, sliding a finger in just as easily as the carrot had slid inside of her.  “You’re so wet,” she breathed, sliding fingers against Lacy’s g-spot.  “I want to make you cum,” she said shyly, licking at the engorged clit and feeling glass between her own thighs.

She worked hand and mouth until Lacy squirted her orgasm, squeezing that dildo rhythmically as her desire for Lacy combined with the continued rubbing sensation triggered her own orgasm.  She climbed back onto the couch, feeling sleep pull at her.  

They’d already arranged the sectional into a bed shape, stuffies and all, and nestled together they drifted to sleep, content in their own little world.


Christmas bunny has been exploring kink since she was legal to do so.  Her serious writing started in college, where she accidently got some of her papers published in educational journals.  She has recently expanded her writing to include her kink journey.  She began writing in the physical realm, but shed some of her inhibitions and began sharing those entries with others.  She now keeps an active blog of her personal growth and her relationship with her Master / Daddy Dominant and writes helpful educational posts on a variety of subjects.

Tagged With: bdsm, bdsm play, bdsm relationship, bdsm scene, fetish, kink, sex, sexual fantasy

This week in kink: January 11, 2020

January 10, 2021 By Desdemona 2 Comments

Feeling lonely and isolated during the pandemic?

Want to meet more people?

Then, check out this awesome list of the best hook-up sites from Reader!

https://www.chicagoreader.com/chicago/top-20-hookup-sites-that-actually-work-and-get-you-laid/Content?oid=85357620

Many think that being a kinkster is linked to trauma. However, a recent scientific study has disbanded this ideology.

Click below to read more from Big Think!

https://bigthink.com/sex-relationships/bdsm-psychology-trauma

BDSM has become more normalized in recent years (key word being “more.” In a lot of areas it’s still not widely accepted, and is still viewed as deviant/taboo).

With this being said, Feminism in India touches on the normalization of kink, feminism, dominance/submission, history, and how this all relates to the expression of sexuality, gender, and the current political climate.

Click below to find out more!


Have some kinky news to share? Tell us about any upcoming BDSM events, new products, dungeon openings / closings, kink in mainstream media, and anything else you think kinky folks might be interested to hear about. Send your tips through to kinkweekly@gmail.com, and it might just end up on next week’s “This Week in Kink.”

Tagged With: bdsm, bdsm community, bdsm news, bdsm play, bdsm relationship, bdsm scene, dominant, feminism, fetish, gender, history, kink, Kink Research, pornhub, psychology, Science, sex, sex research, sexual fantasy, sexual safety, sexuality, submissive, trauma

Gynosupremacy, The Internet, and The Loss of Individuality

December 27, 2020 By Ms. Rika 2 Comments

hot sexy Domme with whip, male submissive
via stock.adobe.com

I hope you have been enjoying Rika’s Lair, my monthly column dedicated to thoughts and experiences  regarding power dynamics in Service-Oriented D/s relationships. Look up “Ms. Rika” in the search box  for links to all of my articles in KinkWeekly!  

My brain-dump of the day started with a response to a question about whether the dominant women in  our group have their submissives serve “all women” with whom they come in contact; to yield to  women as superiors and to enslave themselves by virtue of gender. 

I had heard this concept before, and had always thought of it as a male fantasy. I had always assumed  that the allure of every woman being their superior; the thought that they were “under” every woman – was an imagery men craved. It just struck me as a convenient way for men to live in a titillated state  throughout the day and, frankly, to push their kink onto unsuspecting – and non-consenting women.  However, I was surprised to find that some of the women in the room not only had given that very order  to their submissives, but truly believed in gynosupremacy. 

I questioned those that had ordered their subs to treat all women as superiors as to whether the idea  was theirs or their submissive’s. Most either admitted that the guy had been first to recommend it, or  that they couldn’t recall who suggested it first…that it just kind of “became a thing.” However, there  were a couple of women who proudly stated that it was their original directive. I questioned their  rationale. The discussion became lively. 

I had addressed the concept of “supremacy” in my books before that discussion and started down the  logic trail. For me, submission is a dedication to an individual and I feel that when you generalize based  on a trait, you lose individuality. I related it to feeling commoditized by gender-related bias. I posited: 

“Can you see how a blanket statement about women in general being superior, makes  none of us special? I’m not just a woman. What is it about ME that makes someone want to submit TO ME? As opposed to any other women, for example? Am I just the  most convenient woman around right now? If not me, will the next woman do? Is what  makes me special that I have a vagina – and am willing to allow someone to serve me?  No thank you! 

The notion that someone’s gender is all that’s necessary to warrant submission dilutes the value of that submission. Submission is a dynamic between two people, not between  two genders. Furthermore, if you define gender as an identity, then are we implying  that, if someone identifies as a man, they are not superior – but if they decide to identify  as a woman, they are? I’m sorry, but that would confuse me!” 

I think it’s safe to assume that, when we look at women and men as individuals, rather than as  generalized men and women, we see their strengths and weaknesses. There are individual character  traits that could make someone a very good, or a very poor dominant – or a very good, or a very poor  submissive, irrespective of their gender. It’s not the existence or lack of existence of a “Y” chromosome  (or one’s gender identity) that makes someone dominant or submissive. All men are really NOT  alike…nor are all women. I know many women who I would follow anywhere – and others who I would  never follow … EVER.

I started asking about the nature of their dynamics. Surprisingly, a majority had online relationships  with their submissives. Many of the relationships in the room were either completely limited to the  internet, or predominantly remote with occasional real-life interaction. 

That then got me going on the impact of the digital world on individuality. I started to consider that the  number of relationships people establish (at all levels of seriousness and of all relationship types) with  people they have never, or seldom met – and don’t really know, is growing due to the internet. It brings  people with similar interests together and improves the efficiency of the compatibility filtering process.  Additionally, the allure of anonymity is strong, particularly for people exploring an “edge” interest. But this remoteness is a double-edged sword. The worlds of reality and fantasy blend on the internet. You’re  never really certain who you’re with – as there are few immediate repercussions to your actions. 

I began to wonder if the notion that “all women are worthy of submission” stems, in part, from being  able to interact with people without knowing them. Does the internet make a partner easier to sculpt in  general terms – and to create an image of a person that matches your fantasy? I think it’s pretty clear that it does. 

In fact, I believe this image-creation phenomenon is also largely to blame for the number of men who  believe that a woman will jump at the opportunity to dominate them, just because they’re willing to be  dominated. If you’re a dominant woman with an online identity, you’ve very likely been approached, multiple times, by men who have already decided to submit to you, without knowing you at all – and  then, who are hurt if you don’t want them to serve you without getting to know one another!  

I’m also certain that there are a number of you reading this today, who have been disappointed – or  even hurt – when the imagery presented online and the reality of present-relationships don’t match. Or  when you yourself don’t seem to live up to the imagery that was projected onto you. 

Part of the allure – and the primary reason for the failure – of the internet for creating relationships is  that partners become commodities. You live in the fantasy of your imagination for a period of time, and  when that burns out, you move on to the next online partner. Imagining that every woman is a superior  – or that every male is an underling – is a generalization that is highly supported by the way the online  world masks our individuality. 

I find generalizations, as a rule, to be troublesome (irony intended). I find the notion of supremacy (in  any flavor: Female, Male, Black, White, etc.) particularly distasteful on many levels. I am an individual. I  want to be treated as an individual and I want to receive my due based on the merits of who I am, how I  think, and what I do. If someone wants to submit to me, they had better be prepared to explain what it  is about ME that compels you to make that type of commitment. What separates me from all others like  me. If they’re going to submit, they will submit to what’s between my ears, not what’s between my legs! 


 Ms. Rika is a lifestyle dominant, educator, and author; living in the suburbs of NYC with her  husband/slave. She has written several popular books on her approach to adding Dominant-Centric,  Service-Oriented D/s to relationships. You can find her books (in both print and eBook formats) at  Lulu.com (http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/msrika), or at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, the iStore, Books-A Million, Kobo.com, or anywhere books are sold. Search for “Ms. Rika”. Write to me at  Ms_Rika@hotmail.com

Tagged With: bdsm, bdsm play, bdsm relationship, femdom, fetish, gender, kink, power exchange, sex, sexual fantasy

Saturday Errands

December 5, 2020 By eve 2 Comments

sexy male Dominant with wooden paddle
via stock.adobe.com

“Dress and a thong, I love summer” was my flirty status update. One of my followers posted a “love” and sent a DM asking where he could see me in a dress. I flicked up a body selfie of the yellow sundress taken for maximum cleavage exposure. My G cups stretched the cotton bodice, the slightest erect nipple was on show. Gawd, I’m so glad lace bras were back in vogue, was my tag line. Padded bras are too warm in summer. I was horny and in the mood for adventure. Sundresses and wedge heeled sandals made me feel beautiful and sexy. Saturday morning groceries and the wind under my skirt intensified my sexual hunger.  Yes, a man buying fresh veg was a turn on. I was hunting, I wanted to consume, to fuck. 

It was errand day. I brought the groceries home and was putting them away before heading to town for lunch and a little shopping. I heard the screen door bang in the wind. My ex-husband walked in. I was bent over, my head in the cupboard and ass in the air. “Did you need anything done before I take the girls?” he asked.

I thought, “well, me?” but figured I’d prefer something a little less vanilla than sex with the ex. I stood up and flattened the front of my dress. “No, thanks, I appreciate the offer,” I said casually hugging him, “I’m good, I got my running around done, so I am going to do a bit of shopping this afternoon.”

The slow build to summer seemed to mirror my need for sexual satisfaction. Today, I would see if “FORyou71” really was willing to be with me on any terms. I fired him a message. I will be in the department store café at 3:30. You know what I am wearing. Find me and you can have me.

I was pretty ballsy when it came to hooking up, but I did do a double-take before hitting send. He was fun to flirt with, but it seemed like he wanted a dating situation. I did not.  Most guys I meet, do, and forget. I enjoyed the foreplay, he was flirty, but unsure. This was his one and only shot. I am comfortable with my sexuality and confident in my ability. When I started talking to FOR, a few months ago, I made it quite clear that my rules were simple: I used a safety, condoms, and no pictures.

I’m slutty not stupid. My best friend is my safety.  I message Gretta and tell what I am up to. Specifically, I was off to the Department store for coffee and a fuck. I shared the name and profile I was meeting as well as his cell number. I gave her the details of the meet. Standard procedure was a text if he showed, another if we made it through coffee and a check-in during or after depending on how it went. I told Gretta I would message if it was a go and check in around 4. 

I’ll be there. Was all he replied. Straight and to the point. 

I quip back, Excellent.

I reapplied my lipstick and was inspired to accessorize for my outing. I have the cutest anal plug. It’s gold with the prettiest blue stone. I tucked the edge of my dress into my cleavage. I take a moment to massage the lube onto three fingers. I slide my index finger under my thong between my lips and over my asshole. I resist the urge to masturbate, but I do give my vagina a quick inspection, it’s wet already. With my thumb and middle fingers, I cover the plug with the lube. Air from the AC unit is cool on my bare ass. I place my foot on the bathroom counter. I am open and ache to cum. My clit tingles and I flex my muscles in pleasure, bend my knees to spread my cheeks, and place the cool tip to my asshole. My breath is ragged in anticipation. I push it in and my ass sucks in into place. It feels so good I can hardly contain my urge to fuck. I use my muscles to increase my wetness, my breath is shallow, and I slide two fingers in and pump, I am slick as I feel my nipples tighten. I am so ready to fuck. I suck my taste from my fingers and watch myself in the mirror imaging him watching me as I am now. After washing and drying my hands I take my dress from my cleavage straighten my skirt and put my blue sapphire pendant and earring on. I do love when things match.

In final preparation, I moisturize my arms and legs and put my shoes on. I text FOR and ask him if he is in town. His reply is a picture of a sandwich and a beer. I know he likes the pub near the Department store. I keep promising to try the tomato bisque and gourmet grill cheese. 

I hope there aren’t any onions on that, I reply. 

I’ll see you soon, is his response.

I can barely contain myself. The nerves of youth are replaced with the rush of anticipation fused with my desire to consume him. The thrill of new electrified with the fear of getting caught is almost too much to bear as I drive. My window is down, and the wind whips my hair around. I turn up the radio and sing along. I have plenty of time to do some shopping before we meet. 

I take advantage of the fine weather and park on the top floor of the parking garage. No one parks outside on days like today, I have the roof to myself. I throw a blanket over the hood of the car, put my feet on the wall, and lie back for a few minutes, letting my skin bake in the early summer sun. I hike my skirt up to my thighs, skimming my panties. The sun is intense, my skin warms quickly. A message notice requires me to sit up. I put my feet on the ground and rise, my dress falls in place. Gretta is checking in. I confirm where I am and my need to proceed. Her complete support of my sexual exploits is so special to me. She doesn’t judge, she celebrates my sexuality and joy in my conquests. She offers counsel when I ask, and I heed her advice when it is offered.

The elevator is cool as my eyes adjust to the artificial lighting. I attempt to be purposeful in my shopping. New sheets for my bed and new bath towels are the main purpose of the Department store visit. The store is buzzing with shoppers, the displays are cheesy and cheerful, sand pails and bathing suits highlight the hope for the season. I finger and caress the various thread counts and squish the pile of the towel. Thin towels are better in summer, a cotton-blend stays softer when dried outside. But when 100% cotton is line-dried the towels are stiffer and rough on sun-kissed skin. I love how the coarseness softens as the towel wicks the moisture from my body. I am lost in the smells and sensations my imagination provides. I take a half dozen towels and a set of sheets to the cash. Completing the purchase is automatic. I window shop the new sandals, and swimsuits mentally planning a week at the beach. I check the time on my phone as I bring my shopping back to the car. My stomach rumbles as a reminder that I haven’t eaten since six. I make my way to the food-court. I love people watching as I nibble on a scone and sip an iced tea. I flip between reading the news and texting with my kids. Trying to pick a week to book a cottage for us to go away. If we don’t book soon, I will have to be content with camping. That’s a bit more effort than I feel like making this year. I halt our conversation with, I want the 3 of you to decide a date by tomorrow morning, I have told you when I am willing to go.

A brunette catches my eye, she’s late thirties with a French braid, but not just a French braid a flawless, meticulously proportioned French braid. That hair contrast with her cliché Boho suburban mom look. Cut-off jean and layers of tank tops with high heel sandals made her just interesting enough to hold my attention. She is not comfortable in her own skin, she is fidgeting and looking around, trying so hard to be casual. Oh, I would love to have her fidget and twist for me. Twist and moan in pleasure. She looks like a Sally or Sara. I can envision her restrained and blindfolded, wispy pieces of hair stuck to her forehead with sweat from our sexual encounter. Her tiny tits aching for attention, nipples erect from her excitement. Her hips rising and falling with my touch and I awaken her sex, delicate finger fondle and flick her clitoris until she begins to writhe. 

Christ, I’m wet just thinking about her. I check my phone. I have to leave Sally on the bed, I’ll revisit her when I have time. My clit is aching from my fantasy. I go to the ladies’ washroom and freshen up. The plug always feels weird when I have to pee, but the intensity it adds to fucking is worth that moment of awkwardness. As I wash my hands, I wonder if I should retrain my hair in a braid. I opt to leave it down and loose. Flavored lip balm, not lipstick and it’s time to go for coffee. 

The crowds are starting to thin, children who have missed their naps top the chorus of voices and noises that echo through the mall. The Department store is much more civilized. Piped in music is the order of the day. I slowly make my way through the make-up and perfume counters, touching and smelling, but no applying any product. The restaurant is behind the men’s section. I get an ice water and a coffee; as I am digging for change, the cashier places a wrapped set of cookies on my tray. I walk to the back wall near the exit that leads to the washrooms. With my back to the wall, I face out into the room and place my cell on the table. I sit on the edge of the chair pressing my legs together, squeezing and releasing my muscles. I can feel the dampness of my panties against my bare pussy. I text Gretta and tell her where I am and what I am doing. I smell pine and feel warm breath against my neck. 

“Please be Musemeow?” is whispered in my ear. I have to pull away so I can rotate to see his face. He does not disappoint. I’ve seen his cock and even an entire naked body shot, but not his face. He is bookishly handsome. I can’t restrain my approval. I smile so broadly that my cheeks hurt. I make the motion to rise and greet him, he takes my hand and kisses the inside of a wrist. This intimate gesture throws me for a loop, and I freeze momentarily. 

  I want to say, “who the hell are you?” just to watch his reaction, but I am not willing to lose this encounter. My fetish for sex in public is difficult to satisfy. FOR has been enthusiastic about helping me take this off my bucket list. We exchange niceties and I offer to get him a coffee. 

  He sits across from me. “If only to enjoy you walking away.”

I grab some change and get a coffee for him. I survey the clientele attempting to anticipate the challenges we may have. I sit across from him and he moves his chair so he can be closer to me and he’s back on to the restaurant. I cross my leg and position myself; my feet rest next to his, he is able to easily caress and rub my calf as we chat. The world quickly slips away as I become fixated on the tenor of his voice and the heat that rises from his hand. I sit up and slide close. I want him between my legs. His hand slides under my skirt. I hold my water glass to my lips, sipping and eyeing the restaurant, no one has noticed us. I slide forward and part my legs so he can easily feel my panties. His muscular hands are rough on my freshly shave legs.

  “What have you been up to?” he pauses, his expression is playfully quizzical, “To be wet already? I wasn’t even sure you were going to show. I’m now hard as a rock.” His fingers slip behind the fabric of my panties. I continue to sip water, and my eyes widen with the adrenaline rush. I lay my glass down and hold his eyes. I feel the edge of my dress to ensure the skirt has held its place as far as the rest of the world can’t see. I casually brush non-existent crumbs from my chest, his index finger finds my clit and he starts to flick. 

I can’t hide my reaction and I quickly inhale in response. A purr rises from my throat, my eyes flutter and I grab the edge of the table. I ache to let him fill me, to ride him. Another moan escapes I reach for his face. He retreats from me ever so slightly and licks me from his finger. He impishly states, “I have to go wash my hands.” He starts to leave. 

  “Just a second, I have something for you,” I place a condom in his hand. “I have to do a quick check-in. As he gets up to leave, I send Gretta a quick message. 

All is well, msg u when done and in my car.

I silence my ringer, toss everything into my purse, and zip it closed. I survey the men in the room to ensure no one is about to stand. I slip into the men’s washroom it is clean, but there is a mix of cleaner and stale piss. Years of missing must be soaked into the grout of the tile or something. The squeak of the oversized stall door calls for me to enter. I turn to lock the stall and he is behind me. There is a bag on the floor, if anyone comes in, they will see the bag, rather than our feet. Where did the bag come from, how had I not noticed him carrying it before? Both hands hold and fondle my breasts and he pushed me into the stall door. My nipples are confined in their fabric prison. He maneuvers so that I am between the wall and him. I bite down on my lip to avoid making noise. He inspects my dress to figure out if he can access my tits. I know he won’t be able to have me naked, but he is not convinced. I say nothing and try to draw his attention to get to the fucking. I used my nails through his hair and along his neck. He locks his mouth on to mine and kisses me roughly. I offer firm velvety motions from my tongue; his kisses soften and deepen. His hands move from my neck and around to my ass. 

“The tits and dress stay where they are,” I whisper. We can hear people in the hall. He assesses the space. He squats so his face is at my pussy. I lean back against the wall and hold the grab bar. He goes under my skirt and pushes the wet fabric to the side. He discovers my accessory and murmurs approval, not to be distracted from his mission. He lifts my leg over his shoulder as he moves to his knees. He sucks, licks and nibbles my sex, his tongue is strong, and I feel it enter me. His fingers begin to push against my plug as he consumers my pussy juices. My orgasm builds. Discovering my ass plug is a major turn-on- he increases the frequency and intensity of the motion. I tuck my chin and moan as sweat rolls down my back and I fight the urge to buck and ride his face. He takes my squirming motion as a signal. I hold my breath waiting for him. I had visions of straddling him for a quickie while he sat on the toilet, this is so much more than I had expected. When he comes out from under my dress his glasses are slightly squished and steamed up. I reach to suck my wetness from his lips, I can’t contain my gratitude. 

  “Can I take you from behind?” he asks. 

  I reach up and kiss him only to hear the bathroom door open. I freeze and my eyes bulge. My smile of delight illuminates my face. The adrenaline makes my heart race and my breath quicken. We both resist the urge to laugh. This is the real rush. I cup his penis through the fabric. As I drag fingernails across the fabric, he puts a finger to his lips and smiles. We listen and hear a zipper, he clears his throat and releases his cock, his legs are spread to keep his pants at his hips. Silently, he sheaths his cock in the condom I had given him. He motions for me to turn around, he pulls me back onto his cock as our guest flushes the urinal. His departure is punctuated by the thud of the bathroom door. I exhale heavily and he slaps my ass. I hold the grab bar and grind back onto his cock. He reaches forward and holds me by the hair pounding me as squeaks of ecstasy leave me. My orgasm builds quickly, my back arches and I am dripping in sweat. The crescendo is no more than a dozen slow, deep thrusts, my vagina contracts, cum drips down my leg and I am spent. Time starts again, I grab a handful of toilet tissue to wipe myself. He drops the condom in the trash, takes a handful of paper towels, and leaves. I lock the door, raise my skirt, and sit on the toilet. My head is full of cotton and I can’t form a thought. I pee and compose myself. I take a wipe from my purse, wash my face, and drink from my water bottle. As I walk to the car, I keep stroking and flattening my skirt. I start the car, turn on the AC and send Gretta the text.

Stupendous fuck, pleasantly surprised.


Eve D’Pomme is a college professor and erotic writer. The endless possibilities of human connection motivate Eve’s desires to paint images and make possibilities seem tangible through her writing. Eve has been publishing online for the last year or so and teaching for almost 20 years.

Tagged With: bdsm, fetish, kink, sex, sexual fantasy

Video: BDSM Games For Foot Fetishes and Foot Lovers

December 5, 2020 By total versext 2 Comments

Have a foot fetish?

Love feet?

Want to spice up your foot play?

Then check out this awesome video from the fabulous Dominatrix Susanna!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuP-Dgr97Eg

Tagged With: bdsm, dominatrix, femdom, fetish, foot caning, foot fetish, foot worship, kink, sex, sexual fantasy

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