Parent’s Evening

I decided to enter a story writing competition. Stories had to be school themed erotica but had, according to the rules, to not contain any ‘illegal acts’. Well I’m not sure what jurisdiction they were considering and I’m not a lawyer but here’s the story I wrote.

Pete’s daughter Sarah had come home from school with a letter. With a deep sigh he read it carefully, parent’s evening had come round again. It wasn’t called parents evening of course; instead the letter explained how it was about having a one to one with your child’s form teacher, getting to know how your child was getting on and discussing the work being done that term. Ever a dutiful parent, he filled in the form requesting an appointment and slipped it back into his daughter’s book bag. Continue reading “Parent’s Evening”

Providing A Public Convenience

It is a sunny afternoon. The garden is full of people, standing around in groups talking and drinking. The party is in full swing. People move back and forth merrily between the drinks table set up against the house and the long lawn with flower beds along each edge.

At the far end of the garden in the shadow of the slightly overgrown hedge kneels a naked man. He kneels back on his heels, hands held behind his back, head bowed. He is unbound. He has been ordered to remain here by his Domme who is hosting the party and so he does. Beside him a hand written sign attached to a stake in the ground reads “Public Convenience”. Continue reading “Providing A Public Convenience”

Embarrassment, Humiliation and Pride

The last set of TMI Tuesday questions I answered were all about Formspring which prompted me to go back and look at the (few) questions which I had been asked there. One of them was from another blogger who I had met in person who asked ‘I am curious that you were more embarrassed by breaking a bit of my crockery than the fact you knew I had read about your intimate life’. Continue reading “Embarrassment, Humiliation and Pride”

Taken For A Haircut

Rowena had decided, her boy needed a haircut. She was going to make sure it was done properly too. They entered the hairdresser’s together. Matthew’s hand in hers.

The salon was nearly empty. In the chair nearest the door a young man was having his hair cut by a petite blonde girl. It was the taller brunette who had been lounging by the counter who came over to them.

“How can I help you Sir” she asked?
Rowena replied for him, “He needs a hair cut. Tidy him up please and don’t let him give you any trouble.”
“Certainly” the girl’s eyes sparkled, “would you like a coffee?” she asked her.

Matthew was sat down in a chair and draped in a coverall. Rowena took a seat nearby where she could watch the proceedings in comfort. She accepted her coffee with a smile and sat back to enjoy it.
The hairdresser began running her fingers appraisingly through Matthew’s hair. He wriggled in his chair slightly, enjoying the attention.

Turning to Rowena the stylist made a couple of suggestions and Rowena nodded her approval.

As the hairdresser turned away to gather her tools Matthew’s hands sneaked out from under the coverall and he began reaching for something on the counter in front of him.
“Leave it alone” the hairdresser caught him as she turned back. His fingers dropped, a guilty expression on his face, a child caught stealing sweeties.
The hairdresser placed her hand on his head as she began to cut his hair.

The other haircut was complete and as the blonde stylist moved across the salon to complete the transaction Matthew’s head turned to follow her.
“Sit still please” the hairdresser was insistent but polite.
Rowena put down her coffee and crossed the salon. She whispered something quietly to the girl and smiling returned to her vantage point.

The other customer had left now and the blonde girl returned to her station and began tidying up. Matthew’s head turned once more.

“Enough” the brunette’s eyes looked sternly at him. “You need to learn to sit still”. Taking Matthew’s arm she pulled him to his feet. Before he knew what was happening he was leaning forwards, nose pressed against the mirror, her hand on the small of his back. Picking up a hair brush she began applying it firmly to his bottom.

“Ow”, Matthew protested.
After delivering half a dozen firm strokes she turned to look at Rowena who was watching calmly.
“Carry on” she told her, “he needs to be taught a lesson”.
The hairdresser simply yanked down his trousers and boxer shorts and laid into him with the brush again. Matthew could do nothing but yelp weakly, gazing too closely at his own reflection.

The blonde girl came across to join them.
“My turn” she demanded.
He was turned round now, with his trousers still around his ankles, forced to bend over the chair he had so recently been sitting in. The blonde girl started to spank him, in this instance with her bare hand, until Matthew’s bottom was glowing a rosy red.

Her hand obviously sore, she ceased her discipline and disappeared into the back of the shop. Meanwhile her colleague was reapplying the hairbrush with enthusiasm. Matthew softly whimpered with each stroke.

Suddenly the brunette paused to look up.
“Oh, yes my dear” Rowena’s voice carried across the room full of amusement and approval. Matthew twisted under his tormentor’s hands but could not see what she was looking at.

Suddenly he felt something pressing against his ass. Firm, unyielding and invading.
“No. No you mustn’t” he objected but no one was listening to him.
The blonde girl slid her lunchtime banana slowly into his ass and began to fuck him with it. Matthew continued to protest but his hips were already tilting as he pushed back against it.

“Wank yourself. Make yourself cum” Rowena had come over to watch the show and her voice whispered insistently in his ear. Obediently he took hold of his cock and began wanking it. As he was fucked his motions grew faster until with a little gasp he cried out, shooting cum all over the seat beneath him.

He trembled there for a moment as the banana was finally withdrawn. Then, with a smile, the hairdresser turned him round once more and pushed him down to sit in the chair; his bare bottom against the rapidly cooling sticky patch he had just made.
“Now, let’s finish cutting your hair”.

Five A Day – Back to the Supermarket

After the recent incident of the boy and the banana it was inevitable that other fruits or vegetables would eventually follow…

Shopping

It started with a trip to a well known supermarket, to stock Mat up with groceries.
Over coffee (it was a very civilised shopping trip) we laughed over the helpful suggestion from one of our dear readers that a zucchini should be next in line for his ass. Luckily being reasonably fluent in American cooking I was able to translate that into (the more recognisable to English readers) courgette. At this point I suggested that our shopping should include a representative of this delicious vegetable, and was met with a beautifully disbelieving look.
Continue reading “Five A Day – Back to the Supermarket”

Five A Day – Making It Real

It started with a fantasy. It was Mat’s fantasy, let’s be clear about that. It was he who had spotted the cage nestled in the fruit and veg section of a supermarket, it was he who had speculated about its possible uses. Then of course, naturally enough, he told me about it. More than that, he wrote it out in graphic detail, detailing his pleasure and his shame. What Domme wouldn’t enjoy reading such a story.

Continue reading “Five A Day – Making It Real”

An Evening

After dinner, we talked, cuddled, chilled. Then he turned to me, “Take your clothes off”.
The tone told me he was serious. I stood up and slipped off my skirt, followed rapidly by the rest of my clothes. Practicality attempted to rear its head.

“I need the toilet” I pointed out, reasonably.

“Perhaps” he said evilly. He turned and left the room, I heard distant noises as he went to a cupboard, and returned with a large plastic bowl which he placed on the floor. I regarded it in horror.

“You can use that” he commanded.

I knew better than to try to argue. I went and squatted awkwardly over the bowl feeling horribly self-conscious and attempted to perform. I closed my eyes as I sought to relax my muscles.

“Look at me” he demanded.

I opened my eyes and gazed at him, as I tried to concentrate on my body my eyes dropped. Again he insisted on my attention. Finally, my eyes fixed on his, my body cooperated and I felt the relief as my bladder emptied. He handed me paper to wipe with. I did so, feeling more humiliated by his regard than ever.

After clearing it away, I was sent upstairs to the bedroom where he soon followed me.
With twisted humour he sent me back downstairs again to fetch two pegs. I returned, all too full of foreboding.

He ordered me onto all fours, and proceeded to attach the pegs to my nipples. They were mercifully gentle, but I knew more was to come.  He proceeded to spank me. His hand setting up an insistent rhythm. I let it take me away, living in the moment. As I struggled with the pain I sagged under the blows.

“Tell me when you’ve had enough of my hand” he insisted in a tone which left me sure worse was to follow. I debated internally how much bravery to show.

“I’ve had enough” I admitted.

He fetched the crop then, and told me there would be ten strokes, I was to be in the same position for each one.  He began then, in a steady rhythm, not too fast. Each stroke, with power behind it, first on the left, and then the right. That made it easier to take, and I held firm for several strokes before collapsing downwards.

Breathing hard, I was aware of him waiting patiently above me.  I could delay the remaining strokes indefinitely, all I had to do was lie still.  I wondered briefly if I could avoid the remaining strokes entirely by refusing to resume my position. Even as I thought it, I realised how much I would hate such an outcome.

I forced myself back onto my hands and knees, eager to complete this challenge. The last few strokes were delivered evenly. I felt the burning in my bottom, and wondered what more was in store.

He pushed me down now, so I lay on my front.
He moved behind me, forcing my legs apart, and kneeling between them. His hand ran up my thigh, his fingers swirling in the dampness between them. I shuddered at his touch, knowing he could tell how turned on I was by everything he had done.

I felt his cock then, pushing into my pussy. His body over mine pressing against the soreness in my bottom.

“Push your ass up to me” he ordered.

As I did so, I felt him go deeper, and I cried out helplessly at the total penetration. His pounding intensified, and I struggled to hold position. I felt his urgency, and pushed back eagerly until I felt him cum inside me, crying out with his pleasure.

I collapsed downwards now. Him lying on me, sated.

Then he withdrew, and lifted his weight off me. His hand snaked between my legs, as I lay there, with such little touches needed until I too was crying out with delight.

Our needs met, we snuggled together, and settled down to sleep.