Fucking and Being Fucked

With a groan I slowly unfolded myself and sprawled flat on on my front, mashing my udders into the bed. I had been on my elbows and knees for a long intense fuck: my hair pulled hard so I would rise up and tense my muscles; my cunt rutted in forcefully, followed by shallow teasing and then more deep plundering. I was feeling aches in all sorts of places – most of them very good.

I wanted to make the most of the break I’d begged to have, so I rolled over to one side, propped myself up on an elbow, and watched the continuation of play with interest. m’Lady called out: “Turn over, fuckpig, and take the same position. I’m not done.” The fuckpig’s face was shiny, showing where I had constantly dripped lubrication and ejaculatory juices onto her as I was fucked. I leaned in to nuzzle her ear and smell my umami aroma on her skin, my owner grasped her buttocks to open wide her holes for plundering. Earlier I’d had my tongue buried in the lovely arsehole now on show, and as I leaned back I could see that it still glistened damply. But that was not the hole m’Lady wanted – yet – and the fuckpig cried out as cock thrust hard into her cunt, and ey began the same forceful fucking I’d been receiving just a minute earlier.

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Take the Chance

There was once a chance

that I didn’t take:

Opportunity lost,

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Auctioned

The story below was written by m’Lady Tethys as a birthday gift for me – I was thrilled to wake up and find it waiting for me in my inbox, along with an audio clip where ey read it aloud to me (as you can probably imagine, I wanked my brains out listening to it). It is with permission and with great pleasure that I share the words with you now, after keeping it to myself for a month.

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Cleaning Day

Groaning under the thorough attention of

the maid slut, attentive to their needs:

getting deep into the crevices with

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Gender Galaxy

Written as part of The Gender Book project, as I am a Gender Scout! You can see my earned badges here, if you scroll down.

Gender Galaxy

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In the Shed

Trapped.

The door swung closed, locked on the outside.

Hot.

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“Hark Hark”

(Fantasy, and dark. Not for everyone!)

Hark hark the dogs do bark

The beggars are coming to town

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Dark Desires

I told him my darkest fantasies …

I would be blindfolded, stripped, and my hands tied together. I would be dragged along, unable to see. I would be taken to a room, where I could hear other people, yet they seem not to hear my pleas.

I would be tied to a table, on my back, with my hands tied above my head. The blindfold would be removed and I could see above me a sign, saying ‘free for use’.

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Waiting at the Studio

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait out here. The red warning light is on.” I came to a halt as he pointed at the sign above the door that said Recording Quiet Please in large letters.

“Oh! I guess I’m here early. You’re part of the crew for the documentary as well?”

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S.I.R.

She touched the little box in her pocket and smiled. “This is our most recent creation,” she said to me as she pulled it free from her white coat, maroon contrasting brilliantly. “Not yet for release – but ready for home testing. And while it doesn’t have an official name, just a designation, I’ve decided a very good title for it is S.I.R.”

“Sir?” I asked, confused, watching her as she stroked along the rectangular length of box with one fingertip and ruffled the nap of the velvet. I could not help but think of her stroking my skin in that way.

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