Delightfully unique- whatever or whomever I'm writing in consent, romance, and lust.
I admit, while I loved looking up Molly's upskirt (normally I don't like this genre of picture either, Kayla), something about gazing at her loveliness led me to being philosophical and thinking of my Audrey- or it may have been a mixture of my period and struggles with therapy and doctor- because neither are currently working in my favor :( .
Is it transphobic-more than just sexist- to think of upskirts of transgender people in skirts... that is, unless the person invites you to look?
I'm made to think of that Jessica-woman from YouTube, the Deaf/lesbian/married/British/disabled one... she had her one vlog about having something with the acronym of POTS... and says she jokes with her mum about knowing places by their ceilings since she lays on the floor during flares. Does her wife ever wear skirts that she can get upskirt views?
Audrey seldom-if ever-wears gaffs. If you don't know what gaffs are, they're specially made underwear that allow transgender women who haven't had the full range of "under the belt" gender confirming surgeries, drag queens, crossdressers, genderfluid, and other AMAB people to wear clothes that would show a penile bulge to hide it in tight clothing. How I love to gaze at the shape of her cock nestled against her belly, especially when she's picked the tight red dress that The Queen/Onyx and I both love so much, the fabric stopping just far enough down her deep brown thighs that make me think of the beauty of dusk, when it's almost safe for me, that covers her balls that lead my mind down the path of alliteration that I struggle against.
Upskirt... up Audrey's skirt... her satiny, smooth calves and thighs, the seductive wreath of pubic hair that teases my tongue and nose as I nuzzle her large scrotum, her moans growing louder, and the trail of her that leads my gaze to her long, thick cock, growing erect as if my gaze is a touch. Of course with Audrey and I, a gaze is a touch is a caress is a passionate embrace.
My first girlfriend wasn't... isn't... a stone butch, but yet I don't think I've ever seen her in a dress, except for pictures in her wedding dress when she got married during the time our lives were parted. I'm sure I gave her plenty of upskirts when I bothered to even put on clothes around her. Not that I ever tried to be modest as this culture sees it.
It's been so many a year, a feminine body that isn't Audrey's body, that doesn't call into question what a feminine body even is. Well not a flesh-and-blood feminine body, since Vala, Ailee, Iona, and more have taken virtual tumbles in bed and on the screen with me.
Do I deny my Master upskirts by being a nudist? I'm not sure He cares. I've taken pictures of my freshly shaven pussy and texted them to Him, like when He was at work, from a similar angle (not angel) as many upskirts.
I think... wanting to look up a skirt without permission is always a negative, but with permission? Audrey's is the only skirt belonging to a trans person I wanna look up. Not sure what that means.
The humor... often I look at the Masturbation Monday inspiration picture either late Saturday night or early Sunday morning- and then I write during either/and a church service at the bricks-and-mortar Unitarian Universalist church I go to and/or the online Church of the Larger Fellowship. Well being way too broke meant no B&M church this morning and I'm getting pissed off at a failure to caption at CLF- I do have above average hearing and usually processing abilities are pretty on, but reading so much about Deaf culture as I study ASL has captions on my mind. So I got off Facebook because I often manage to write a decent scene during church service(s). But captions drew me into just seeing Kayla as she lay on the bed in the picture. So worry about therapist on Monday cut this a little short; I hope you still enjoy.
Is it still a gag when it's on the dominant... or when both dom and sub have their mouths held closed? He pondered as he pushed the Velcro pieces together on the back of his head; her mouth was held closed by a smaller size of the same harness, although her bound wrists prevented her from reaching the Velcro.
Her legs flexed only as much as her tightly bound ankles would allow. Her hips moved with her struggles as he slipped his earplugs into his ear canals before placing a yellow silk swatch in her right hand.
He lifted his eyebrows. You still consent?
She squeezed the swatch harder. Snorting a breath, she tensed when he carefully removed her hearing aids before placing them in their box on the nightstand. She focused hard on the massager, it seeming as larger as her forearm.
Grinning, he allowed her to take her look. I'm not sure how much she can tell its speed from looking.
With fluttering eyelids and lashes, she sunk into the bed as he sunk the vibrator into her cunt, fitting the clitoral attachment into place. Her jaw pulled against the facial harness even though the Velcro was strong enough to hold against this low level of struggle.
He swallowed, his intent to dominate through words blocked by their consensual dual gagging. He touched the tip of his tongue to the inside of his mouth. A flick of his thumb sped up the vibration.
Her hips thrust up.
He twisted the vibrator slightly. With his free hand, he gave her inner thigh a small pinch. The cord stroked the top of her other thigh. He pulled the toy out slightly before pushing it back in as far as it could go. He released her thigh and moved his left hand to hold the vibrator. Come? he signed.
Right, we agreed no sign except for safety. He turned up the vibrator again.
She bounced against the bed with the first orgasm he'd given her that day.
So much more to explore.
Sigh, I didn't wanna miss this week when I missed last, but my daughter made writing tricky. Yeah, she's 18- still a pain. But I was interested finally enough to write and Molly's picture gave me a thought...
I glanced at Molly's picture again. Could I do that? Could I let others see me naked when it's not in the heat (literal or metaphorical) moment of sex? When I'm not even aware of the camera?
My fingers slipped between the labia as I gazed closely at her legs, appreciating, enjoying the tiny hairs on her thighs. I pinched my clit, softly, but growing harder. Her skin looked so soft. Like Audrey Dolly balanced against my shoulder, her stripped tight-looking legs resting on my breast.
I pressed back in my chair. My computer on the footstool, adjusted so the webcam showed from my stomach down to my thighs, my crotch. I didn't like what I saw. Need to shave, rumbled through my head.
You're gorgeous, love, Audrey said before her lips ghosted over my neck.
I adjusted in my chair, my brain acknowledging the feel of her thighs, cock, stomach, back against me. Pressing my head against her delightfully small breasts, I closed my eyes.
That's my girl, you should feel so good, she purred against my earlobe before sucking it between her warm lips.
My finger slipped into my cunt as Audrey's touch and Molly's picture engaged in twin touches.
Still your hand and I'll make love to my sweet girl, Audrey murmured. Her left hand cupped my breast and I shuddered into her warmth. Doesn't that feel good, little love?
I heard the camera snap and part of my thighs appeared on the screen below the minimized browser.
Her hand left my breast to press buttons on my computer; the webcam showed my naked torso and thighs to my knees. My love. My finger curled into me as she started kissing my neck. I saw the echo of Audrey's form around my flesh-and-blood body on the screen.
Go to sleep, my love, and relax into the orgasm I want to give you. Her lips were replaced by nibbling teeth as her words washed over my skin.
But I want to be awake for this pleasure, I argued. I shuddered hard. It didn't matter because I was coming hard against her loving body. The camera snapped repeatedly as the shuddering melted into writhing and I clung to her arm where it rested on my thighs. Love you, sweet Audrey.
Love you, cuddle up. She kissed my forehead, my closed eyelids, my mouth.
The camera snapped one last time. I can't wait to see those tomorrow, I murmured sleepily.
Enjoy the other hot #MasturbationMonday hoppers and the lovely inspiration picture Kayla picked this week here: http://masturbationmonday.kaylalords.com/masturbation-monday-week-154-by-mollysdailykiss/
I asked a friend to write a domestic discipline story. Oh and yeah, as if it goes without saying, it's NSFW. I mean, how much do I post on here that is safe for work lol ? Rather than write an intro for him, I'll let his profile on a fan fic site do it:
"Hello everyone, my name's Anthony, but I also go by Tony and A.J. Stony's my OTP, StarkSpangledBanner's my OT3, but I love many other pairings! I am fond of action figures, reading, dancing, and painting. I have a deep love and appreciation for hair, particularly beards and chest hair. And I can never get enough smut, I really can't."
for more, read here
to read other fan fiction stories of his, go here
When Tony looked up at the clock, he was shocked to see what time it was. He knew he’d been in his lab for a long time working on the Mark VII like Steve had asked, but he completely lost track of time. Normally Tony would’ve asked Jarvis to notify him when it was midnight, but he was so excited to finish the repairs and make Steve proud that he forgot.
Unless the Avengers were on a mission, Tony was supposed to be waiting in bed for Steve at midnight, freshly showered and dressed in his pink bra and panties with cream lace trim. It was one of their rules, and even though Tony had a difficult time adjusting to being submissive for the first few months of their relationship he now loved answering to Steve and doing as he was told. He loved making Steve, who he lovingly referred to as Daddy, happy, and he would do anything to please him.
Tony went against Daddy’s wishes by staying up past midnight, however, and he knew he was in trouble. He put down his soldering gun, walked over to the floor length mirror to his right and stared at himself, disgusted by his appearance. His hair was greasy and sticking up on all ends, his face and arms were smudged with oil and dirt, and his black wife beater and distressed jeans were stained with all shades and tints of grey and brown. Daddy wasn’t going to be happy to see him in such a deplorable state, and Tony hoped he had enough time to clean himself up and change clothes before Daddy walked into the bedroom.
He rushed out of his lab and into the elevator, pushing the level 20 button over and over again in hope that it would somehow make it move faster. It seemed slower than usual, however, and Tony took the opportunity to remove his dirty, sweat-sticky clothes as the elevator brought him to his destination. When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Tony was already completely naked with his clothes piled in his arms. Tony knew that Daddy would be especially unhappy if Tony left his mess in the elevator, so it was better to take care of them now; the last thing he wanted was to disappoint the Head of Household even further.
Tony ran down the hallway to the left and into their bedroom door at the end of the hall, tossing his soiled clothing into the hamper sitting right next to the doorframe. When his dirty clothes were put away just as Daddy expected, Tony hurried into the bathroom on the left hand side of their bedroom and turned on the water in their shower. When the water warmed up, Tony walked in, slathered his body head to toe in body wash with a bath pouf, washing away the dirt, debris and sweat covering virtually every inch of his body.
Two minutes later he was out of the shower, and he swiftly dried off and carefully folded up the towel and put it on the rack next to the sink, just as Daddy told him to do whenever he finished bathing. He took a quick look at himself in the mirror, gave himself a smug grin for cleaning himself up before Daddy came into the bedroom and walked out of the bathroom. Tony’s belief that he’d gotten away with his bad behavior was incorrect, however; Daddy was sitting at the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of blue boxer briefs and holding a wooden paddle. He took his eyes off of the paddle and looked over at Tony, his naked body shivering in shame as he looked at his Daddy with his big, brown eyes.
“Baby boy, what time is it?” Daddy asked as he beckoned for Tony to come to him, waiting patiently as Tony hesitantly walked over to him and sat down on the bed to the left of him.
“It’s past midnight, Daddy… I’m sorry, I got caught up making repairs to the suit and I just never looked up at the time. I didn’t do it on purp-” Tony began to apologize, but Daddy brought his left index finger up to his sub’s lips to silence him.
“You know better than to make excuses, baby boy. You should be dressed and in bed right now, not just stepping out of the shower… It doesn’t matter that you were having fun working on your toy, that’s not a good reason to misbehave and I’m disappointed in you for thinking that you can get away with your mistake and hide it from me. You thought I wouldn’t find out that you were late to bed, and I can see that… Now tell me, what’s your punishment for not getting to bed on time?” Daddy questioned as he looked over at Tony, whose face was flush bright red in embarrassment.
“Tw-Twelve paddles…” Tony mumbled, unable to bring himself to look Daddy in the eyes.
“That’s right, baby boy. Now go get your pillow and get on Daddy’s lap. Now be a good boy and hurry,” Daddy said in a calm, even voice as he watched Tony crawl to the head of the bed, grab his favorite blue pillow and return to his previous position.
Tony put his blue pillow on Daddy’s lap, and then assumed his position on Daddy’s knee. He kept his arms out in front of him and gripped the corner of the bed with his sweaty, wet hands; the last time Tony didn’t keep his hands gripped to something he ended up covering his butt to defend himself from Daddy’s paddling, and neither of them wanted that to happen again. Before Daddy began, Tony turned his head to look at his partner, pleading with his eyes for forgiveness.
“Don’t give me that look, Tony… You made a mistake and we have to correct it. If you hadn’t have broken the rules then I wouldn’t have to spank you, baby boy. How else are you going to learn if I don’t teach you a lesson? Now, if you’re a good boy for Daddy and turn around then your punishment will be over before you know it,” Daddy spoke in a stern, yet kind, voice, and Tony nodded his head and looked face down at the black blankets on the bed.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
Tony flinched when the cold wood hit his left ass cheek, and he let out a small yelp of pain. He wanted to put his hands on his bottom to keep Daddy from striking him again, but Tony knew better; if he did that then the punishment would be more severe, and that was the last thing he wanted. After the first strike, Tony felt Daddy’s left hand move to the small of his back and hold him tight, preventing him from moving.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
The noise rang in Tony’s ears as the paddle hit his bare, flesh over and over again, turning his skin bright pink and sensitive. It burned, and each smack only worsened the pain. His Daddy could be a bit brutal with his spankings sometimes, but that’s the way Tony liked it; he wanted his punishments to hurt, and while he knew Daddy would never use his whole strength he did put much of his energy into the whacks.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
At the ninth slap to his bottom Tony began to cry. The pain was getting to him, and he felt completely humiliated and ashamed of himself for breaking the rules. The only reason he went to his lab in the first place was to please Daddy, but he ended up upsetting him instead. With each smack he realized how wrong he was to disobey the rules, and Tony truly felt sorry.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
When the spanking was finally over, Tony heard Daddy carefully put the paddle down onto the ground, thought he was unable to stop crying. Tony knew exactly why he deserved to be punished, and even though he felt like he was forgiven for his transgressions he still felt ashamed. As Tony continued to cry, Daddy carefully picked up his sub’s body and cradled him in his arms, holding him tight to his body.
“I’m proud of you baby boy… You took your punishment like a grown-up, and Daddy loves you so much,” Daddy purred in Tony’s ear as he held him close and rocked him back in forth in a slow, gentle motion.
“I’m sorry, Daddy… I don’t like disappointing you, and I should’ve paid more attention to the time. It won’t happen again, I promise… Are you still mad at me?” Tony sniffled as Steve wiped away his tears, earning a soft smile from his Daddy.
“No, of course I’m not mad at you anymore, baby boy. You accepted your spankings and you said you’re sorry. But if you do it again, I’m going to have to add time out in the corner to your punishment, understand?” Daddy answered in a soft, sweet voice, soothing Tony and calming him down.
“Yes I do, Daddy. I’ll do better next time, and I mean it. Cross my heart and hope to die if I’m lying to you right now,” Tony responded sincerely as he made the shape of a cross with his right index finger over his heart to further make his point.
“Okay, my little smart-ass… I love you baby boy,” Daddy assured Tony as he pressed a tender kiss to his sub’s lips.
Tony stopped crying, and he let out a loud, drawn out yawn. He was exhausted both physically and emotionally, and now that he’d been trained to go to bed at a reasonable hour Tony found it was difficult to stay awake much past twelve-thirty in the morning. Daddy carefully lifted himself up off of the bed with Tony still in his arms, and he walked over to the left hand side of the bed. He slowly lowered Tony onto the bed, and he covered him with blankets to keep him warm. After he tucked Tony in, Daddy gave him a quick kiss on the forehead and assumed his position on the other side of the bed. He wrapped his arms around Tony and the two fell asleep, both feeling reassured and content in the strength of their love.
Something about the inspiration picture made me think of The Queen and Greta when they were moving from "friends in the BDSM scene" to "Master and slave" or maybe "Dominant and submissive"- I can't imagine personally making the switch in roles that Greta did.
"So now what will please me?" The Queen wondered aloud, his grin stating that he wasn't asking Greta's opinion.
Her fingers rested between her cunt lips as he'd placed them. Not going to look at the floggers and crops and other things he's used on me. He must have needed this as much as I. Pleasant aches played across her skin and in her muscles where the impacts had made her scream and beg to come.
"Look at you with you fingers right where I told you to put them, but not moving. Not going to try for an orgasm without my permission?" The Queen chuckled.
"No, my Queen," Greta whimpered. Her nipples tightened as if he'd put the clamps back on them.
"Use your other hand to pinch your nipples," he ordered.
She moved her fingers like she played the piano as she obeyed him. The first gasp escaped when she touched her left nipple, the first one he'd clamped with the cruel Japanese clover clamps he'd been pleased to remind her had been a gift from her to him.
"Good girl," he taunted as her fingers moved to right nipple.
"Please, my Queen," she begged. She pressed her fingers into her genital area between her outer and inner labia. No reason to make it harder to obey him without his direct order.
"No." He smirked at her. "Something more is needed here." He lazily rumpled his hair before getting up from the wooden box he had sat on. "Hold that pose."
The words caught in her throat when he disappeared from her view before she could respond with any of the respect language that had made his cock so hard earlier. Her inner thighs pulled at her attention with their stickiness; all she needed was his permission and she'd have the best orgasm of her life.
Simon reclined on the box The Queen had abandoned. "Too bad you haven't been through his formal collaring so I could fuck with you, even if it is lovely to see you so stripped."
Greta pressed her feet into the carpeting, feeling the thick cuffs The Queen had placed on her ankles anew.
"I... I didn't say no, before the collaring," she babbled.
"Yes, you gave a whole lot of consent, but I still need his order to allow me." Simon grinned. "For now."
"My boy! So glad to see you had a moment," The Queen called out as he approached them. "Like to help give me some pleasure?"
"Always, my Queen. How might I help?" Simon responded.
"Well first I would suggest you get naked so you can enjoy how you will be helping more." The Queen ran his fingers under the hem of Simon's white tank top.
"That sounds good, my Queen." Simon pulled his top up and off, moaning as The Queen's fingers moved over his skin.
She chewed on her bottom lip so she didn't make a noise to draw their attention to her.
"These fitted pants make me want to get out of these business clothes and fuck you both," The Queen growled.
"And your sleeves rolled up like that make me wanna beg for your cock, my Queen," Simon answered. He leaned into The Queen's hands as they undid the button and then pulled down the zipper.
"Such a cock tease." The Queen reached into Simon's pants and grabbed his semi-hard. "You are going to lay still with your cock in her ass, your fingers pinching her nipples."
A groan escaped her trembling lips, bringing the men's attention to her.
"I see you like my idea." The Queen pushed Simon's pants to his ankles. "Obey."
Simon rushed to lay on the floor beside Greta; she dove onto him, her mouth wetting his cock before she scrambled over his legs. He grasped her hips as she backed up onto his cock.
"Simon will stay mostly still so you'll need to make yourself come using your fingers on your clit. Can you do it?" The Queen asked as he sat back on the box.
"Yes, my Queen!" Greta whimpered as Simon let go of one hip to help guide his cock into her asshole. "Ti... ti--"
"Yes, I think it would be nice if you used Simon's title as you will be beneath him in my hierarchy after your collaring." The Queen interrupted her stammering.
"And beneath me physically as much as he'll allow," Simon muttered as he help Greta relax back onto his torso.
She trembled against him as his cock filled her up, pushing her back toward coming.
"Now that pleases me," The Queen said as the slaves moved against each other on the floor before him.
"You're not obeying him fully," Simon taunted with his lips against Greta's earlobe.
"Neither are you," Greta retorted. Her body tightened in one moment as Simon's fingers found her sore nipples. Her fingers glided over her slick cunt. "Please, please, please, my Queen!"
"So lovely. Make yourself come, and Simon if you can too."
Greta pushed down onto Simon's cock, her hips shuddering as the orgasm rocked her body. "Coming! My Queen!" she cried out as she rode Simon's cock, her fingers sliding into her cunt. With his fingers pulling and pinching her nipples, she thrashed against him. "Please, my Lord, please fill my ass!"
"Can I please touch her other than her nipples, my Queen?" Simon pleaded.
"Sure," The Queen laughed.
Simon gripped her hips and held her still as he pounded up into her. "That's my girl. Keep coming for me. You feel so good."
Greta cried out as Simon's thrusts prevented her orgasm from stopping.
He released her right hip to reach around and slap her cunt lips.
Her cries became screams as she lurched to sitting up on him.
"Come back here!" Simon wrapped his arm around her chest and pulled her back onto him. "Filling your ass, dirty girl."
"Yes, thanks, my Lord, my Queen." Greta squeezed her eyes shut.
"Good slaves," The Queen groaned.
Simon and Greta smiled at The Queen before relaxing into each other.