30 Days Of Kink: The Whys, The Whats and the Maybes

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Day 13: Explain as best you can what the appeal of kink/BDSM is to you?  Why are you drawn to what you’re drawn to?

It’s my sexuality, and I find myself repeating this a lot. That being said, kink-as-a-set-of-expectations provides a codified structure to try to qualify and quantify and abstract emotional concept and a bunch of loosely connected fetishes. Human sexuality is squishy and determinded by the individual- this is a way of trying to characterize it so I can talk about what gets me off with other people.

As for the whys- if I knew I’d be an award winning, possibly noble prize worthy discoveries for achievements in psychology and human motivation studies. There’s lots of theories, some of them absurd (my favourite stupid idea being that spanking is just some sort of pre-species throw back for red behinds). I still go with the idea that human sexuality depends heavily on whatever symbols and social patterns that gelled with us whether you are ostensibly vanilla or kinked, and there really isn’t a ‘normal’ that people are born with that is perverted, just infinite shades of perversion.

Day 14: How would you say real life BDSM/kink varies from fantasy BDSM/kink?  If you haven’t experienced real life BDSM/kink how do you think it might differ?

Fantasy kink tends not to take real life into consideration, while amping up the petty and awesome as high as they go. Thus in fantasy, all the doms are super competent, all the subs complacent into the role, or if unwilling, unwilling in a way that is not simply truculent. Everyone is gorgeous and wealthy- typically old money or steeped in whatever the writer considers markers of high class. Everyone does whatever the person likes best as a normal thing, say if there thing is cuckolding and latex, hotwives and body condoms are what femdom is.

This sets up unrealistic expectations of good looks and easy dynamics that I’ve never seen happen in practice, with kink parties not being stocked with model hot millionaires. Meanwhile kink activities and needs, are, as I mentioned, much more about what a bunch of individuals are trying to do in a barely functional consensus.

Beyond that, probably the biggest fantasy/reality conflict is the expectation that just being whatever you are will cause what you want to happen. The inherent vulnerability of having to ask someone to submit to you is routinely glossed over- stories giving you things like infinite amounts of money or a pre-existing position of power over the sub, or just the fictional magic dom aura sucking in subs through their desire.

Day 15: Post a BDSM/kink activity you’re curious about and would like to try.

I’d like to try a more prolonged D/s dynamic, and I’d like to explore service a bit more, the latter as a matter of personal development and exploration.

Although Strong and I did owner/property in a way that was technically 24/7, distance and practicality put limits on things. Meanwhile most of my other experience is scene only. I’ve also never found a service oriented person I clicked with- it all felt like too much and too overwhelming to my personal boundaries.

I’m not sure how realistic a prolonged power thingy is. Wildcard and I have been glommed onto each other for a bit shy of a year, and formally hooked up only since January. One of the things I learned with Strong is that it’s hard to try to run a lot of things concurrently in the same dynamic- we flamed bright, but burned out fast and it didn’t survive having to accommodate being human.

Meanwhile as far as prolonged power experiments, I can’t say it’s gone as well as I’d like- the Ex constantly attempted to delegate personal responsibility for various things onto me, for example trying to give me control over his diet so he’d stop binging unhealthily or motivating him to exercise. This would last for about a day before he’d decide he didn’t actually care or want it. I’m going to chalk Strong and I’d thing up to one of those deeply meaningful short term things that wasn’t built to last.

But, as I mentioned, in fantasy, dominance is supposed to basically work like mind control and bring about exactly the results I want to achieve, and somehow make them fit well for the sub. In real life, humans are crap at habits and rules. What I can do is always deeply effected by what my partner can consent and conceivably do, and that’s a big part of the secret vulnerability of dominance. You say ‘Do X’ and it doesn’t happen.

With Wildcard, what we do together is also strongly influenced by his self exploration. Up until recently much of this was confined to the realm of improbable fantasy for him. Like many people he’d assumed that dominant women were so scarce that meeting one was a lottery win on its own.. This has meant a very odd scenario where I am both in a position of power in so far as my position of guidance, but also restraint, since realistically it’s hard to consent to big things when you are learning your limits. So what we’ve done in the direction of more prolonged dynamics is developing rituals and habits- Tuesday “Punishment” is certainly doing a wonderful job. That sense of constancy is definitely something that works for me.

He’s been a pretty good sport for someone who spends a lot of time exploring the upper edges of their comfort zone- and I’d have to describe myself at impressed with his courage about a lot of this stuff. Especially the really hard, ego destroying stuff where you have to admit you’re not up to doing what you actually kinda want. Add a sincere desire to make me happy and I really couldn’t ask for a better person to try to muck about with.

But on the side of my limits, I don’t know when or how I’ll experiment with the service thing and that’s definitely me baggage. For example one of the biggest barriers to enjoying service is the sensation of helplessness at having other people do stuff for me. I also don’t like the controlled, free lunch approach a lot of service subs take- I think this is more me being gunshy than them necessarily being wrong- but, it occurs to me that at this juncture in my life I’m feeling a little more comfortable with ordering someone to do for me.

Femdom Life Update: Health, Body Image and All That Stuff

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So to complicate matters, I’ve been suffering from some health problems lately. This can be very frustrating: as well as interfering with work, it’s hard to get your dom on when you are taking extensive naps.

It’s not fun, and most of my mental energy’s being spent on getting better. My body has taken to this via shedding weight at a rate now leading to people announcing how tiny I am. This has meant a surprising amount of reconciling myself to new, reduced flesh.

Self image-wise, I’ve always been blessed that I wasn’t bothered by my weight- and never got particular pressure to be a particular size. The bone structure I inherited is very rangy, maybe gangly if I wasn’t of average height. Puberty gave me an ass, and even finding myself going all disordered eating seems not to shift that, even as I start to see the notched bones between my breasts, and my dress size has plummeted, something that’s supposed to make one happy, but mostly pisses me off because now my underpants don’t fit.

At the start of the summer, Wildcard and I went co-hab, me moving in over top of him to the official designation of “Sexy Roommates”, a fairly straight forward process that took about two car loads and merged our kitchenware, as well as necessitating the purchase of a place to cram my clothing into. It also means going from living out of a drawer and a bit of a mess, to sort of soaking into an already existing structure.

Summer isn’t my favourite set of months, and even less so to Wildcard, who belongs in tweed and wool on a moor somewhere- despite many references on his part to his Arabic heritage as part of his identity, he has climate temperament of a Brit, and a Northern one at that. Summer is one long migraine broken up by rare rain, not helped by weather in Montreal that decided that this year storm clouds were going to perpetually sit over the city with about the same utility as Tantalus’s grapes.

So add one less than happy partner plus me dealing with not being in top form and I’d describe the whole thing as one long stress test. This is not to say we’ve stopped doing kink- on the contrariwise we’ve started a weekly session on Tuesdays that we’ve both been finding very satisfying, but I wouldn’t exactly say it’s been an easy time for either of us. Certainly we’re both anticipating the fall with a certain degree of enthusiasm.

Meanwhile I’ve stepped up the aggressiveness to which I am making sure people are aware of my side trade in freelance writing. The derpy banner add is an experiment of sorts, to see where that goes.

Friday Femdom Fiction: Out of Her Hand(cuffs)

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“I’ve decided you have too much independence most of the time and that’s interfering with your ability to submit. So I’m going to take that away.”  She gently moved him into the position she wanted him to be in, admiring the lines of his bare back as she stood behind him.

The ratchet made a click every time they tightened. On his wrists, slim as they were, that meant cinching them in close, squeezing the metal, satisfyingly, until his hands were captured behind his back in two loops of shiny steel.

He had held his arms for her, obediently for once, while she locked them into place.  Of course as soon as they were on and she let go he was testing against them, feeling the metal. She’d made him strip to the waist, and she could see the muscles shift under his skin as he figured out how much liberty he had.

“You’re going to spend the next four and a half hours with your arms like that,” she reminded. “From now until bedtime.”

5:22 PM

He looked up at her from the floor, where she’d shoved him down to kneel, expectantly.

“No, this isn’t about me playing with you for kinky fun time.” She frowned, shaking her head.”This is about reminding you that you’re helpless.”

He looked confused, but she shrugged and moved the pillow to the small of her back, making herself comfortable on the couch, going back to looking at the television. Her legs crossed at the ankle, tight, soft black knit rubbing against black knit. “You can stay here with me if you want, or go do something else on your own. Up to you.”

He knee walked over, putting his head into her lap. Her fingers combed through his thick, soft hair, but her eyes stayed on the screen at the other side of the living room. He focused on the feeling of her nails on his scalp, on the warmth of her thigh and the velvet nap of the couch upholstery.

6:13 PM

“Can we please take these off?”

“Are you safewording?” She looked at his face to gauge his level of discomfort, checking to see if he was genuinely in distress or simply irritated. “Think about this. Do you really need me let you go or are you just sulking because you want this to be about you?”

He seemed to consider it, weighing his tolerance to the consequences. “N…no.”

“Then tough it out.” There. That was the hard part, that little bit of guilt that not letting him have fun would have repercussions for her, the other half of the lesson she was teaching herself with at the same time she reminded him of his place. In the spirit of that, she pushed those thoughts aside, and the trailing resentment that went with them, focusing on the moment. “Submit.”

He looked ashamed and she smoothed out her skirt, reaching for her laptop and thumbing the lid open. He watched her click the keys, halfway between touch typing and two fingered button pushing.

6:58 PM

“What shall we have for dinner? Hm, is it takeout night or am I going to cook something?”

“Uh…” He looked uncomfortable about being asked. He never liked to directly pick what they ate, always preferring that she made a suggestion. “Whatever you want is fine.”

“A big plate of spaghetti for you to bury your face in? So you get covered with sauce?” Her finger lightly caressed his cheek. “Smeary red?”

He hesitated again, thinking about the texture mashed into his skin and how it would smell.  She watched his expression, still admiring his bare chest and the way he flexed his shoulders, still uncomfortable in the grip of the handcuffs. She smirked.

“How about pork fajitas? The pork needs to be used up.”

“Okay, but I want you to help me, you’re the one who knows how to make it better.”

“You could just uncuff me and I could make dinner…”

“No, I don’t think so. You can kneel on the kitchen floor and I’ll ask you if I have any questions.”

7:36 PM

She kept him there while she put together dinner, crisped pork shreds wrapped in cornflour shells,  garnished inside with confetti-fine shreds of lettuce and spicy, sweet salsa and green and garlic sharp guacamole. He’d felt fidgety and frustrated, watching the outline of her ass and the way the slight stretch in the fabric of her pencil skirt cradled it.

He thought about other things to go do, picking up his phone and poking at the screen or curling up with his computer, but both weren’t options.

“There, two for me, three for you, with a squirt of lime.” She turned, crouched and smiled. “Come on, we’ll eat on the rug.”

She sat mermaid style, and he knelt, trying to figure out how to eat the food she’d put in front of him. He leaned forward, trying to take a bite and succeeded in making the tortilla unroll, spreading the blended contents on his plate and getting guacamole on his nose.

She giggled and took a bite, savoring the crispness, and the mixed flavours. “Having trouble?”

He frowned and she reached out with a finger, scooping the green off his nose before popping it in her mouth and sucking. “Mmm…”

“I can’t eat like this.”

“Well, that does sound like a problem. You’re going to be hungry if you don’t think of a solution.”

“Can… can you help me eat this?”

There was a satisfied smirk, as if she was waiting to hear that, and she picked up the fajita, retucking it together and holding it in his reach. He took a big bite.

 

30 days of kink: Hard limits, ethics and funny stuff.

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30 days of kink continues with a bunch of unrelated questions- from super serious limits to funny anecdotes.

Day 10: What are your hard limits?

I don’t want to permanently harm anyone. I also don’t want to involve poo, children or animals. I also don’t want to be outed or out anyone, which limits the possible blackmail scenarios I’m comfortable with. I also prefer to play with a safeword and breaking the law is not my idea of fun.

When I’m on the receiving end of stuff I’m extremely, ridiculously picky- like one of the reasons I know that the ‘submissive’ label doesn’t fit is that the experience is very much about what I want. I don’t like punishment dynamics used on me, or involving other people beyond a very passive audience- like I don’t mind people getting off on it, but being vulnerable to people and their judgement makes me uncomfortable in a not sexy way.

For example, I like the sensations of impact play and have a reasonably high pain thresh hold, but while playing with Wildcard where there was an audience (camming) he was joking with them about me being a bad girl, etc and I basically went into full on GTFO dom mode. In the end, I think he found my reaction, which was pretty icy and calmly pissed off, more distressing than I found the experience.

Due to past bad mojo, I can’t masturbate and have someone fondle me from my right side. I’m also slightly jumpy about being touched from behind, even though that’s a major source of sexual stimulation for me. I’m usually okay about that, but a few days ago I was washing my hair in the bathtub and got caught but surprise to a grope and got all weirdly freaked out.

Day 11: What are your views on the ethics of kink?

I find this one comes up a lot for people who feel guilty or believe that subs/bottoms don’t really want what they want. I think there is a lot of ethical stuff to unpack and examine within kink, such as Dommism, but I don’t see the ethics of kinky sex as being too deviant from what people consider vanilla. Heheh, deviant.

For me, one of the challenges is that I function under a preference for enthusiastic consent (as it should be) but fetishize non-con. In theory one would just ask your partners to talk about and describe their desires, but I’ve discovered a lot of people don’t have the vocabulary to do that- or they don’t make that sort of separation of role. In hindsight some of the challenges with Strong is that he wanted to be forced without being able to tell me he wanted it. Obviously this meant where he would start talking about limits I would back off- because I don’t like having to second guess my partners.

Day 12: Tell us about a humorous BDSM/kink experience you’ve had.  If you haven’t had one, talk about aspects of kink/BDSM you find funny.

Well, there was the time after an orgy I was helping people pack up, and being on sextoy washing duty I stuck a large purple suction cup dildo to the wall at eye level and they nearly forgot it there for the hotel staff.

Or the time that I was using a fly swatter on someone’s ass and got them in the nuts by accident, or the time my endorphin addled friend thanked someone “for the soft caning”, resulting in a much harder session than the top had initially planned.

Friday Femdom Fiction: Sweat & Service

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She took the stairs slowly, feeling the burn in her thighs and up into her hips. Her chest felt the press of the sprints she’d just completed, and shook her head, letting her loose, long hair sway, trying to cool herself, holding the elastic she’d pulled from her sleep and sweat tangled hair and the coiled up cord of her headphones.

First the front steps, up a story, the door, with it’s glass panels, and the inside steps, all the way up again, to the inner door. She was tired.

He was waiting there, at the top of the steps, his legs folded under him in a prayer pose, head bowwed and palms flat on the floor, long arms a little forward, as if in supplication.

The slight askewness in the way he was kneeling that said he had heard her coming at the first rattle of the door and got into position. She guessed rushing from the bedroom, or maybe he’d lumbered from his bed as far as the kitchen.

“Mistress!”

She smiled, stopped and rested her hand on the wall, plucking her phone from the taut pocket made by the tight grip of her sports bra and dropping it, keys, cord and elastic onto the hall stand.

His fingers went for the laces of her shoes, sensible trainers with white, honeycomb mesh and big white soft plastic, like rubber and panels of bright colours in purple and neon and reflective grey. She always put a double knot in the bow and laced her feet in tight, like it was a corset.

He kissed her then, on the crossed lace strip of her right instep, peeling her shoes off to reveal the padded grey ankle socks she was wearing underneath. Her feet were damp, clean sweat, fresh, and she smiled as he hooked a finger into the band of her socks and peeled them off, feeling him lifter her foot to kiss at her soles and then her calf and thigh.

He tasted salt, tongue darting our, delicately, seeking up the creamy inside of her leg until her hand pushed him away. “Fetch me a glass of water. No ice”

When he got up, she followed him into the kitchen, where he took a glass from the shelf and ran the tap for a moment to be sure the temperature was cool. She finished it in big gulps, plunking the spent vessel on the counter and lazily making her order an announcement- “Undress me.”

He knelt again, to pull down her brief shorts, black knit, drawstring drawn all ruffled to sit on her narrow waist but stretch fabric filled by the swell of her wide hips. She stretched, pointing her toes as she stepped free of the discarded garment, and he saw the jut of her hip bones beneath the thin fabric of her cotton panties, and the dark shadow of her groin.

He kissed and licked her pale belly, tongue making a trace to her rib flare, where his lips nipped at the bone, before moving behind her. The sports bra was a tight stretch of black elastic, pressing her small breasts, tight as he pulled it up, and she indulgently let her arms move up, making it easy. He got a rich waft of her smell from her smell, intoxicating, pheromone laden.

“Touch me.”

She didn’t need to explain what she meant, caressing her body, around to cup her bared breasts, kissing the back of her neck, and reaching around, palm sliding down her stomach and finger finding the furred fold of her labia, playing, getting a wriggle and then a pleased noise. Her hand crept behind her, making explorations of her own. “Serve me.’

His mouth traced from neck to shoulder, even as his fingers returned to her back, finding all the placed he knew she liked to feel him press, then cleaving to her sinking lower, back down to kneeling as he nuzzled the fullness of her ass. Hand and mouth, and then she let a giggle escape as his impish nature tempted him too much to nip at one perfect rounded cheek.

“Bad boy, serve your Mistress and go set up a shower.”

Other Places To Go Part V

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Yaye! It’s time for a link share of cool stuff that caught my eye. kissinghim A fantastic post on reddit, discussing starting out as a female dominant and practical things you can try in the bedroom with a partner, that doesn’t focus on filling the fantasy dominatrix role.

A very talented artist did a comic with female dominant themes that would have appealed to teenage proto-dom me in a SFW story about a selkie and a fisherwoman.

Not Just Bitchy is being clever again, with some basic but needed advice on getting a service dynamic off the ground.

Femdom Story Update

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Enjoying my BDSM & femdom stories and thinking about getting yourself something as a treat or getting a gift for someone else?

I get tons on requests from fans of my fiction to cover specific tops or explore ideas- maybe you want to see a particular fetish given some real justice, or maybe nobody’s writing quite what you are looking for so far. To go with my high quality writing, I’m updating our pricing, to give you the opportunity to enjoy longer pieces of bespoke fiction and better reflect the types of projects people want to order. That means a price drop on stories over 2K words in length!

Wondering about the possibilities? Some stories people have ordered include a special couple time story as a birthday gift; a steamy encounter between a female police officer and the poor boy she decides to prey on;  the secrets of a female society plotting to subjugate all men for their pleasure; and my favourite, when Wonder Woman showed Superman who’s boss in the way we know darn well suits both the characters.

Check out the new rates to get yourself the erotica you’ve always dreamed about here.

Friday Femdom Fiction: Body Writing Brat

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The cuffs were soft leather, wrapped around each slender wrist and holding his arms over his head, bound to the headboard, while a crimson scarf was twice wrapped across his eyes, blinding in soft layers of silk fabric.

She looked over him, naked, remembering the rough stripping she’s done, with the way the snaps of his shirt had popped and his pants and briefs had come down together in one quick yank. One leg half curled up, and she pushed down on his knee, making him flat to the mattress.

There was a scattering of hair over his chest and a thicker stroke of dark over his belly. and cradling his groin in an intimate way that always made her want to press her face there and let her teasing tongue find its own path.

Instead, she kept her removed posture and considered for a moment, before she began, opening the flap of the orange box and pulling out one of the thick pens by the brightly coloured cap.

“Let’s use your favourite shade then? It’ll show up nice and clear on your skin when our friends get here for the party.”

The wet tip of the marker brushed over his skin. He smelled of clean laundry and maleness, his skin reminding her of butter and summer sun bleached grass. The marker was blue, tapered nub dabbing sky tinted ink in curves and straight lines.

“That tickles!”

“Shhhh… You hated wearing the sign even more.”

“Miiiiiiss!” He whined, drawing it out. “Heeeeey!”

“Be good.” Her hand took his thigh, giving it a warning squeeze. “You’re a bad boy and everyone’s going to know it after I’m done.”

“What are you writing?”

“What you are and all the things you did wrong.”

“I can’t see!”

“You know what you did. You can guess what it says.”

“Seducer of women?” Even with his eyes covered, she could see the coy challenge.

“Slut!” The marker was drawn away from his skin as she flipped his leg over, twisting his hip up to land a solid spank on target.

He yelped,  and when she released his thigh he lay flat, letting her straddle him and add another line of writing.”

“Came without permission, without even taking a picture for me to look at. And such a smart mouth. Always answers back. Never does what he’s told… Oh and you bit Miss Jenny!”

“Miss Jenny said I didn’t dare do it. And she liked it!”

There was another smack and a yelp. “And you’re not holding still! You have one job and that’s to lie on your back and let me write. We shall underline ‘disobedient’ shall we?”

“There, much better. Time to take some souvenirs.” She knew he could hear the recorded click noise of her cell phone’s camera.

“Let me see!”

“I don’t think so. Not for a bad boy.” She leaned over him now and gave a kiss, just as the phone in her hand buzzed. “Oh, that’s them, they’re downstairs!”

Just a little flustered, she reached for the buckles freeing him. “I’d better go answer the door. Mind you get tea together when you come out, and bring it to us on a tray. There won’t be any illusions what you are to me when they read this.”

When she left the room he could hear her feet down the hall and then on the steps, and the sound of voices. He took off the blindfold without untying it, curiosity drawing him to the mirror.

Property of Miss ___

Disobedient

Slut

Answers Back

Caution: Bites

He made a tsking noise and found the discarded box of markers. In orange scrawl, lopsided above everything he added one more word. Beloved.

Femdom Life: Spanking Him On Camera

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showcase_MPThe last couple of weeks have been rough as far as health problems that have seen Wildcard and I both hitting clinics within short days of each other. While neither one of us is dying, we both aren’t helped by the summer humidity either.

Friday evening, after yet another stress filled day, I went for my thrice weekly run, leaving Wildcard all by his lonesome. Stress seriously cuts down on sex time, as does being under the weather, and with him starting to feel a bit better he was hinting a certain interest.

After putting in my usual time and distance in sneakers, I came back to find him with laptop on his lap, gently stroking his half hard cock while chatting with a room full of strangers. He perked up and suggested that I could join in, tie him up and tease him, to which I gave him one of my patented looks. I am not a big fan of dominance on demand. with me you don’t call the shots and set the script. You can suggest sexy ideas, but it isn’t going to fly if you try to put my urges and control on rails.

He didn’t end up tied up to the bed, but he did end up edging himself and then bent over my knee for a mean, hard spanking while everyone he’d been entertaining earlier continued to watch. Hand was soon switched up for a belt, probably my favourite of his to use, a big thick piece of supple brown leather.

I had him on all fours, facing the camera and reaching underneath himself to keep his cock hard- and his facial reactions showed me that he was experiencing some intense sensations from the leather striping his cheeks, while the colour changed to a bright pink, blossoming from the blush of his warm up to a good ruddy rose of a proper bare skin spanking.

The reactions are the best part for me, watching the intensity in his face as I made him count off loud so everyone of the people in the chat room could hear. It’s not the first time I ended up spanking him on camera for anyone to watch, but Wildcard is a horny little exhibitionist who get both extremely turned on and extremely humiliated with an audience. As well as the usual horny guys drooling over me, we got a couple of ladies getting into seeing him paddled, gratifying since I like it better when he doesn’t get treated like he doesn’t exist. And I knew that kind of attention is Wildcard’s big weakness, so you can bet he was feeling extra vulnerable and submissive to whatever sadistic cruelty I intended. Spanking him on camera for women to watch is a huge fetish for him!

He was the one who noticed the little wet patch under me, a mark on the sheet where I’d been resting, but it was me who told him that he had to fuck me without coming- as long as he could manage, stretching it out as his thick cock filled me up. We started with me astride, riding him, but pretty soon he tipped me back and made himself take his time while I teased him by gripping his cock with the muscles of my cunt.

He took a long time just like I ordered, waiting a minute after I gave him permission before finally cumming with a loud muffled groan into my neck. We ended up spooned up after that, with various audience members indicating their appreciation.

The problem with a live crowd, of course, is that you don’t control them, so it’s no wonder that sometimes the questions get a bit weird. I’ve been compared to people’s stepdaughters. and we often get bombarded with requests for butt stuff. This time we got asked: So, is he the biggest guy you’ve ever fucked?

The girthiest. Even super turned on as I was, he’s a tight fit.

Friday Femdom Fiction: Breath Control

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The ribs of he corset pulled in on her ribs, steel bending soft bone and pushing creamy breast up, pillowy at the satin edged top of the construction. Her body pushed back, straight lined bones forced to be an hour glass that bllowed sharply beneath into the roundness of her hips. Uncontained , but for the black cross strap of the garters and the little scrap of lace panties. She’d put her stocking clad feet into heels, but those had been kicked off when she’d pushed him back into the bed and climbed on top.

He could feel her weight, warm and soothing, her palms pushing on his chest. She giggled and whispered, “The safeword is to tap. If I see you thumping me, yourself or the bed, I know you’ve had enough.”

Her hand had teased his cock, petting whole hand strokes like she was stroking a cat, then running her hand up his belly and chest, feeling the light brush of hair, before skipping to his face. Her fingers pinched off his nose and her other hand cupped over his lips, sealing off his air.

She watched his face, helpless, eyes getting wider until he began to pat at her thigh and she released, letting him exhale and draw a breath.

“Breathe. Breathe out.”Her hands went back over his mouth and nose. She held them there, feeling him try and fail to suck more than a few whistles of air around the seal she’d made. When she saw the hints of a struggle, she removed her hands again. “Breathe.”

While he took in air again, her hand crept back to his cock, teasing and pulling where it was already half swollen. He moaned and she made a muffled sound of delight, something between a giggle and a contented murr.

“Breathe. Breathe out.” This time it was her mouth, not her hand that sealed his mouth. He’d kept a little air, which she breathed out for him, through her nose, and then drew in a breath, feeling her corset creak as her chest expanded, feeding him.

He made almost no movement, only cringing back into the bed, but holding himself at her mercy. She was alert and careful, watching everything he did, making sure he weakened but never truly slipped too far. His eyes were wild and wide, fearing even though he could push her off with one arm, and his cock stayed snap-stiff with hardly any attention.

She tugged of the little scrap of stretchy lace, now wet through, tossing her panties off the bed and rubbed her groin to his, letting the wetness and the grooves of her cunt tease and slide him into the right position, before letting him sheath inside her. Perched over, and around him, her hands went back to his mouth again, stealing his air and squeezing inside. “Breathe. Breathe out.”

She alternated then, only wriggling her hips when his air was stolen, so that each gasp was made as she loomed over him, smiling. “You want to come, don’t you?”

He didn’t waste air talking, nodding as he sucked in greedy breaths before she took it away again.

“Come then, come in me.”

The orgasm was violent, twisting him into an arch bend, head rolling back, open mouth breaking the air seal on her hand. She took them away, finally, and let him finish spasming that way, pulling in air even as all his strength was stolen from him.

He was pale, and sweat dappled, while her palms were clammy from his exhalations. She kissed him again, this time feather light, slipping her weight off of his as she shifted to his side. “Breathe. I’m done.”