I adore sub-Bee (she/her) for sooooo many reasons, and not just because she’s been a prompt multiple times for Masturbation Monday! (Although, I do love that about her.) Why did it take so long to get her here to do the round-up? I have no idea, but I’m so glad she’s here now!
I was so excited when Kayla asked me to help out at short notice with this week’s round-up, of course, I was happy to help. Or I was until I read through all the entries and remembered I then had to pick just three out of those wonderful entries.
Weaponised Want by Depressed Queerdo
Where do I start with so much sexy, from the gorgeous image to the wonderful story? I was captivated as they wove their way through the scene. The anticipation building as they took us through both their partners sadistic and their gentler nature. I found myself wishing it was me in their place.
As we walk into the club I feel a dozen eyes follow us as across the room. It must be said, we make quite a striking pair. My bulky frame is wrapped in a lacy black thong and matching chemise, thick black eyeliner and lipstick decorate my face. And a simple collar marks me as my boyfriends fuck toy for the evening. Holding the leash, and leading me through the crowd, ze strikes an exquisite contrast. Hir slight frame is dressed in a binder and strap-on harness. While every inch of my outfit is designed to look filthy and depraved, hir clothes are practical, a touch of pink lipstick the only concession to makeup. While I am dressed up as hir pretty slut, ze looks effortlessly handsome in casual underwear. Keep reading.
The Lodger by Lessons in Kate
As far as I’m concerned there can never be too many cock sucking stories but this one was different. I hated myself for sneering at the fuddy-duddy wife. Horrified that the brilliant writing could twist my mind into thinking that way instead of being supportive of her. How could I forgive her awful husband and that entitled little tease for all that delicious risk-taking and grabbing those sexy moments whilst danger lurked nearby?
There’s four of us at the breakfast table – the father, the son, the mother and me. Well, I say four, it’s three – the father, the son and me – the mother is making breakfast like a dutiful housewife and the son gets packed off to school sharpish, leaving the father and the mother and me. His and hers dressing gowns. She balked at my ill-fitting t shirt from some summer festival in ’75. I was a child, then. She didn’t know me, then. Whoever bought this t shirt bought it for a boyfriend or lover who turned out rotten so to the thrift shop it went and I scooped it up and sleep in it, after a boil wash. Keep reading.
Playing with Dolls by Deviant Succubus
This is one of those stories I feel I just shouldn’t enjoy because it’s so twisted, that said, it’s twisted in all the best possible ways! It taps deeply into some of my darker kinks, the need to be used as a toy, a puppet dangling from a master’s strings for their sadistic entertainment. It’s all written so well it makes you feel as if you’re really there watching in the audience.
They were holding hands. Fingers intertwined to secure a feeling of togetherness and safety. They had done well, listened to the instructions. High heels, short skirts, chests undressed. No underwear, no jewelry. Just shoes and skirts. Hair pulled back into ponytails. They were waiting. A bright lamp was lighting up the stage. Around them: darkness. Keep reading.