by Ashley Hind
Mistake number two was allowing her to take me back to my room to sleep it off. I might have been talking gibberish by then so perhaps she didn’t understand that I could make it back there alone. Things are a little cloudy about what happened next but the end result was that within five minutes I was on my back upon my bed, and she had somehow secured me by my very own cuffs to the headboard. Mistake number three was wearing the black PVC catsuit - not one with a dildo at the crotch this time, but with a chunky chrome zip that went from the top of my mound, all the way underneath, nearly to the top of my bum. When I’m of sober mind I can defend myself from being unzipped and exposed. Here, it seems, I wasn’t.
I must have issued her warnings. I wasn’t so drunk not to know what was happening. She still unzipped me and found me all knickerless and exposed. Maybe I didn’t thrash around enough. Maybe she didn’t fully understand who she was dealing with. She got that glint in her eye and I knew what was coming. She didn’t prepare me in any way - not even with a few tender strokes beforehand to ensure I was wet. She placed her fingers flat, pressing on my shaven puss, and then she gave me a spank.
‘That’s for Millie!’ she said as it landed.
I have a very little puss, with small, delicate lips. I am not very well protected at my most sensitive place. The impact made me squeal. It sent a fizzle right through me that had me sobering up pretty darn quick.
‘That’s for not letting me fuck you!’ she cried out as the next slap landed.
The swell down there was instant, which didn’t help hide me from the smacks that started to come in a flurry, gaining in intensity as she warmed to her task. I perhaps should have given her more warnings, told her in no uncertain terms to stop, but apart from my squeals and gasps I kept my mouth shut.
‘That’s for shoving that champagne bottle up me while I was licking that Swiss Air hostess, and that’s for calling my band “Vaginal Tap”!’
The surprise and heat of the blows sends the shock right through you. The sound is just so incredibly rude, especially as you get wetter. You can see your little petals dancing and juddering, suckering to the fingers as if they cannot bear to let them go. It feels dangerous somehow too, because it is such a sensitive spot that cannot absorb the sting as other parts can, but that seems to unload the endorphins more quickly, sending them spreading through you like a glorious shiver. It hurts for sure, but it’s a special kind of pain; one you can’t help wanting more of.
It is a nasty act, both to watch and to have done to you, and completely compelling. I cannot think of many things that are more humiliating to suffer, especially since you get so wet it is as if you are loving every second of it. Your lips jiggle with apparent glee and open up to show your rude wanting. The slaps send a sharp thrill shooting through your body. All the while it feels wrong and potentially very harmful and yet you can’t help but stick your pussy out and hope for more. I’m sure it would take a very resolute spirit indeed to resist coming from it.
I hid my climax as best I could, trying not to give her the satisfaction. She wanted me to give her something in return and had bared her own puss, but my head was already clearing and a plan was in place. I pretended I had passed out from the drink, so when she started rubbing her wetness in my face she got nothing back from me except heavy breathing and a few pretend snores. She tried rubbing puss to puss but that wouldn’t rouse me either. In the end she resorted to slurping at my wet hole, even though the dirty bitch thought I was asleep.
I am patient when it comes to revenge. Yes, she had given me a good time but she had used me and abused me and that would never do from someone like her. I am the one to be dishing out the humiliation to my girls, not the other way around. Before she had even unleashed me and given up trying to revive me I already knew what to do. Step one was to pretend to have been subdued by Fanny. Rather than come out fighting I acted shyly around her over the next days and weeks, as if she were the one in charge. I suggested I might, in fact, be in love with her. I avoided the parties. When she tried to corner me I would look away, say it was not right, that I had been a bitch. I would mumble that it was only fair that she and Millie were together, since I was the one who stopped it happening. I said I liked her too much to stand between her and true love.
Of course, Millie got much the same spiel, only crafted to let it be known that poor pining Fanny would do anything to win the beautiful drummer’s heart, including abandoning her hedonistic ways.
‘She is not really a dirty girl at heart,’ I told her. ‘I am, so I can tell. It is all an act, one she can’t help falling into and one she is desperate to shake off. She just needs you to ease her back to her comfort zone.’
I said it was ridiculous that they hadn’t spent a night together, since they wanted each other so much. I said I would make it happen for them, at last.
‘I will be with Fanny in her room, to prepare her,’ I told the drummer girl. ‘She wants to be cuffed at the wrists so that you will feel safe with her. She knows that once you start making gentle love to her then she won’t feel the need to do her kinky things. I will leave the key with you so that you can release her once you feel comfortable. She also knows that you don’t like her dirty talk, and she is scared of blurting it out and frightening you off. She has asked to be gagged at first. It is just her nerves that make her do it, a demon you can exorcise. Once you have calmed her she will go back to being how she always used to be, and you can remove the gag so that the two of you can kiss.’
Well, Millie bought it all easily enough. She had that look in her eye, the type virgins get when they think they are going to make love for the first time. Fanny was no more difficult. I told her plain that Millie wanted her, if only the kinks could be ironed out, which was true. I couldn’t stand in the way of love, I said. Fanny made a grasp for my crotch but I eased her off, reminding her that if Millie ever got wind of such things she would be lost forever. I revealed that the drummer was prepared to relent and make love to the singer at last.
When Fanny’s eyes lit up I knew the rest was a formality. She would need to be tied, I said - just at the beginning, until Millie was sure her new lover could be trusted. I also reported that any dirty talk would have the drummer running for cover. I suggested a gag, just to show that there was no need for Millie to fear any rudeness being blurted out, to be removed when she felt ready.
‘If I was to oversee you,’ I said to Fanny, ‘and make sure you were safe when she came, and that it wasn’t all some trick on your part to entice her in and ravish her, then she would gladly come to you.’
I even got a big kiss for arranging it all. So that’s how it went. I timed it all perfectly, to happen the night before we would go our separate ways - me to Donnington with Slikbitch; Q.W.I.M. to a less glamorous mini tour of Scandinavia (where, within a month, Fanny would be infamously photographed wearing a couple of black Norwegian bitches like a pair of gloves, and her tour manager would finally give in and pack her off to rehab). I duly went to Fanny in her room a few doors down from mine and gave her a few sneaky snogs and a tit-sucking, just for old-time’s sake. I stripped her and told her how exciting it was going to be with Millie and that I wished I could watch it all, if only such things didn’t spook the drummer girl. I stripped her naked and then put her on all fours, saying it was how Millie wanted to find her. I asked if she was ready and then gently cuffed her wrists to the headboard, showing her that the key was to be left safely on the bedside cabinet. I stroked her hair and gave her one last kiss, and then secured the ball gag in her mouth, telling her it would soon be off.
I then went to my room where Millie sat patiently, like an expectant new bride, dressed only in my thin dressing gown. I took her and held her and said her new lover was ready for her. I said I had put the singer on all fours and not to be alarmed. It was best that way: it was not a position of gratuitous rudeness - more a position of surrender. If the drummer should use
her gentle tongue immediately it would calm everything and set the tone. I told her where the key to the cuffs was and to only use it or remove the gag when she felt ready. She nodded that she understood all this. I then led her down the hall and, just before the drummer entered and went inside, I slipped off her gown. And that is how I got my revenge, leaving the two of them all alone to make passionate love, both fully aware of each other’s needs. I went back to my room to sit in silent contentment.
Oh, yes - I nearly forgot. Just before I left the restrained and gagged Fanny, I put a tube into her bottom and filled her with funnel after funnel-full of olive oil, so much that she was squealing and writhing and barely able to hold it all in. I stowed the evidence under the bed and sauntered off to Millie, taking a last look over my shoulder to witness my victim desperately clenching. She knew that to let it go would present Millie with a scene she would run shocked from. She couldn’t warn her prospective lover because of the gag. Her only hope was to somehow hold on, at least until she could be released and explain her predicament. But what were the chances of that, when a pretty girl was to immediately set about her undefended puss with a yearning tongue? I gave it five minutes, tops.
I over-estimated, in fact. Millie must be a quick worker because I had barely sat down before I heard the screech from down the corridor. I emerged in time to see the fleeing drummer go past carrying a look of horror. Her hair and face and tits were plastered in the yellow-green oil, which had clearly hit her with some force. As she disappeared around the corner I knew she wouldn’t be getting naked with the silly singer again anytime soon. I wore a big smile as I went back off to Fanny. She had her head down, sobbing into the pillow from her shivering release. The evidence of her shame was all over the bed and floor. That’s one bill her management company weren’t going to be thrilled to receive!
I gave her some words of condolence as I calmly sorted through her things and found one of her strap-on dildos. Then I got on my knees behind her and gave her bottom a nice deep fucking, to show there were no hard feelings. I even reached around between her legs and gave her naughty puss an even harder spanking than the one she had given me. She wailed and bucked and when I took her gag off she even sobbed that she loved me, despite her defeat. I’m sure our paths will meet again, but I can’t see much point in trying to pursue her further. My work with her is done. But as for Millie - now she really might be hard to forget. I’m sure that if I could just tie her down I could show her some kinky stuff that she couldn’t help but enjoy. It just so happens that her band is supporting Slikbitch at their next gig. Now, if only I knew a Rock Goddess who could get me a backstage pass...
Strap Happy
Erin Pim
Two kinkster lesbians discover the pleasure of bringing a strap on phallus into the bedroom. It’s obvious that the girl on the receiving end gets her fill, but they soon find out that wearing the dildo also has its allure.
Today, my new partner Joslyn told me she bought another toy for us.
Our particular brand of lesbian sex has been involving into incorporating toys, be it vibrators, plugs, anatomically incorrect dildos, or light BDSM equipment; but she says it’s something totally new this time. And something, she thinks, that either of us hasn’t used before. Eager to see what else we could possibly add to our repertoire, I told her that I was available tonight.
“Can’t wait, Anna,” she texts me back, with a winky face.
I arrive at her building, feeling the familiar excitement of meeting with Joslyn. She has a slight figure, a youthful energy, and short brunette hair. I was attracted to her immediately, as she served my table at a nearby bar. I didn’t ask her out for the longest time, not completely sure that she was into women. For me, I feel that it’s fairly obvious. Not that I’m into labels, but I tend to look the part, with my androgynous look leaning towards “butch”. It took me weeks of casually offering personal information about myself before getting any back from her, what with her maintaining professionalism and all. For all I knew, she was just a cute, straight girl with a pixie cut. And not only that, but our interactions could be the product of ensuring a good tip. I got some help fishing for her orientation one night, while out with a small group of my more boisterous lesbian friends. While openly, and as the night wore on, loudly, discussing everything from feminism, to self-identifying, to eventually, eating pussy; my friend Emily called her over.
“Joslyn! You should join us! Have you got anything to contribute on this matter?”
“On...?” She politely asks, as if the whole bar can’t hear everything we’re saying.
“Have you ever had a girl come on your face?”
“Emily!!” The rest of us yell at her and her gall. I give her a smart slap on the shoulder.
“What? I’m just asking an honest question. Seriously, are you queer, though? We have a bet going.”
“I...”
“We do NOT have a bet going,” I clarify, then realizing I just pussy blocked myself.
“Well... Yes. I am,” she says, matter-of-factly. Unintimidated, and quietly confident. An awkward silence goes by.
“Shit! Well, how come you haven’t asked for Anna’s number yet?!”
I knock, and Joslyn opens the door quickly, as if she was waiting behind it. “Come in!” She squeals, half hiding behind the door. She draws her shoulders close for a quick squeeze, and pulls me inside. Then, she shuts the door, revealing it. She is wearing a strap on dildo.
“Oh my god,” I utter, looking at it. It’s a large, fleshy, realistic looking cock. We’ve grown into being a pretty kinky couple, but this is something completely different. Some lesbians might call this cheating.
“Isn’t it amazing?!” She asks, excitedly.
“Wow,” I say, standing back to look at her properly. She’s wearing a black lace bra, but no panties. The soft leather straps of the apparatus appear to lie comfortably against the flesh of her hips and ass. She turns slightly, back and forth, showing it off. The dildo wags in front of her, bending mailably. I can’t stop looking at it. I think my mouth is hanging open. She laughs giddily.
“I absolutely love it!” She yelps. “I’ve been wearing it all day.”
“I think I love it too,” I say, feeling it grow on me. Who am I to judge?
“Really?! Yay! I was so excited to show it to you.”
“Haha, I can see that! It’s nice to see you so excited.” I say genuinely, coming closer to her. I reach out for her hips, to pull her against me.
“Do you want some dinner?”
“Uh... now?”
“Yes, I’ve got a casserole in the oven. It’ll just be another couple minutes!”
“Uh, okay!” I say, laughing. She waddles back to the kitchen with her new centre of gravity. She is positively hilarious. I sit at the kitchen table.
“You know, I’m getting more and more used to it,” she says, over her shoulder as she washes a dish.
“Mmm, me too,” I say, looking at her. I have to say it’s very sexy to see her dressed in this way, performing mundane tasks. Physically, as well as intellectually, with it being an interesting play on traditional gender roles. I can’t stop smiling, looking at her. She bends to take a look in the oven, her bare ass tightening with the movement, then stands to find the oven mitts.
“What do you think? Suzie Homemaker?” She teases, posing with the gloves on.
“Somehow I don’t think Suzie Homemaker had a silicone dick,” I tease, raising my eyebrows at her. “But I like your version better.” I stand, and approach her. She stops what she’s doing, and gives me a chance to look into her eyes, and place a wisp of dark hair behind her ear. She smiles brightly, obviously so proud and energized by her purchase. I lean towards her and part my mouth, taking her lower lip slightly into my mouth. I moan slightly, already feeling the pleasure of being close to her, touching her. My eyes are close
d, but I feel her mouth form a smile as I kiss her. Suddenly, she gasps.
“The casserole!” She makes me eat it all.
“I hope you’re not thinking about taking that off yet,” I say from the kitchen table, as I see Joslyn disappear into the bedroom.
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it!” She says flamboyantly. I follow her, and she’s already on the bed. On her side, the dildo laying perpendicular to her body. I remove my shirt and pants, getting down to my sports bra and underwear, then crawl towards her.
“Mmm, you like your big dick, don’t you?”
“Oh yeah, baby.” I grab onto it, and hold it tightly so she can feel it press against her pussy. It feels good in my hand. A nice thick shaft.
“You have a nice dick, don’t you?” I say, pulsing it against her pubic bone a couple times. She moans, the pressure feeling good on her pussy. “You like to fuck girls with this dick?”
“Mmm, yes,” she sighs, beginning to touch her own tits. I lean into her, pulling down her bra, and aggressively take her small breasts into my mouth, one by one.
“Hmm? You like that? You like fucking girls with this?” I press the base of the dildo into her again, and she arches her back in pleasure. I move one hand underneath her, to play with her pussy at the same time. She’s already very wet, and it turns me on to feel it. “Do you like it when I grab onto your big dick? Hmm?” Joslyn moans, smiling, enjoying the role play. She likes to be dominated. And apparently, even when she’s the one with the dick.
“Yes,” she breathes. I can’t get to her clit with the dildo on, but I toy with her opening. I let my fingers dance over it, teasing it. I run my hand all over her silky wet pussy.