These fantasies about you come from the talented, dirty mind of Ferns, and originally appeared on her website Domme Chronicles.

Thinking…
About masturbating
Thinking about you, and thinking about masturbating
Thinking about you, spread-eagle, restrained and blindfolded
Face up, on a bed

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This gorgeous story is written by Nooky and originally appeared on her website. It is read here by Girl on the Net. 

You’re supposed to meet at the elevators at 6.30 — drinks and supper and then, after, the train back to his place, your first time sleeping there. You’ve fucked at yours, a couple times, once in a hotel. A blowjob in the park, behind a fenced-off carousal. The pre-date quickie on his couch last week when you’d picked him up. But this is the first time really going to his.

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This fisting erotica is written and read by Quenby, and originally appeared on their website – Quenby Creatives. It contains BDSM, fisting and Daddy kink. 

I’m bent over her knee, buttocks flushed as red as my lace panties. Her hand rubs over the tender flesh, soothing my freshly spanked ass. I squirm as her fingers brush over my anus. Of course she picks up on it, sadists always do…

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This gorgeous real life story about play in a BDSM club is by Victoria Blisse, and first appeared on her website. It is read here by Sherryl Blu. Features sadism, BDSM, pain and blood.

It was Kev’s birthday party at Miss Ts. I was wearing my new polka dot dress with pockets and telling everyone it had pockets because that is a given. I was doing my hosting duties and when I wasn’t I was sitting between Kronopticon and Palantilin. I tell you, there’s something quite decadent about flopping down on a sofa between two hot guys, both happy for you to snuggle close and touch them. The two meanies hadn’t met before, but they seemed to bond quite happily over their mutual desire to hurt me.

I was glad to be of service.

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This intensely hot story about a bridesmaid degrading herself is written by Kate, and originally appeared on her website. It is read here by Girl on the Net, and it contains themes of degradation.

“He’ll never love you,” she said weakly to her reflection – a vision with puffy red eyes and crumbs of mascara peppered around them like funereal glitter. Her flushed chest matched the crimson hue of her eyelids. The bridesmaid’s dress, which had once held her like a lover and accentuated the curve of the arse that the groom had fucked the night before his engagement party, now hung a little less naughtily, gaping where her hunched shoulders diminished the volume of her breasts, threatening to be exposed by the dress, that was now sizes too big.

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