When I was young I had a teacher who gave me butterflies in my stomach. Scratch that – not butterflies, and this wasn’t a teenage crush. Neither of these things comes close to describing the way this teacher made me feel. Sick and excited and aching with desire. I didn’t fancy him, I wasn’t ‘keen’ on him: I lusted him. Hot and angry and sweating and desperate.

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This gorgeous femdom dating fantasy is written and read beautifully by The Barefoot Sub, and originally appeared on her website. Note that it contains pain, spunk-milking and pegging.

Dating, what a nuisance it is. Or maybe it’s the looking for a date that I find so awful? Having to network, usually online, initially before meeting for a coffee at a neutral location. So much posturing, posing, preening. Being vulnerable and allowing others to see the real ‘you’ appears to be actively discouraged. So very far removed from who I am, not to mention being the opposite of what I want in a partner. That all changed when I met you.

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Note: this post will seem screamingly self-indulgent unless you care about the minutiae of my life. It’s a piece about my hopeful heart, and some behind-the-scenes updates from the last couple of months. If you like that sort of thing, you’ll like this. If you don’t, please go read the porn instead for now, and pop back on Sunday for something more fun than navelgazing.

A long time ago, one of my Patreons asked me: do you ever get embarrassed? It’s a question I’ve been thinking on for at least two years, and as I ponder it I’ve written three or four different answers that are all stuck in draft. The short answer is yes, I sometimes get embarrassed. For instance if I write something clumsy that doesn’t do justice to the person who inspired it, or if I say something that, on reflection, I realise is ignorant or hurtful. But the main things I write on the blog – sex stories, love stories, earnest posts about friendship and connection – are not a source of embarrassment no matter how intimate they are, or how silly they might make me seem to an audience of strangers. I don’t think I’m ever truly embarrassed about telling you the things that bring me joy. I have a hopeful heart, and I want to fill it with love and sex and pleasure and fucking fun. Then when it’s full of all these things I like to let that joy spill out in public. I had an amazing shag; I fell in love with a boy; I came up with a cool new story to wank to… whatever.

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I think ‘inspection’ (of any kind, be it kinky inspection, medical inspection, or something between those two) is one of the kinks that I have started to love more myself since commissioning other people’s writing. I don’t think that you can necessarily ‘teach’ anyone to be into your kinks, but I do think that my own sexuality is broad enough that if you describe something with lust and precision, I’ll probably get horny for yours even if it’s never occurred to me to wank about it before. Today’s guest blog is one of those – it grabbed me by the wrist and led me into the hotness of a clinical, detached, yet also deeply erotic examination. Huge thanks to Sasha for sharing it – this is his first ever piece for the site and I’d love to encourage him to publish more of his writing, because this is a stunningly hot story. Note that the post contains medical themes, and although the examination is consensual, the way it happens hints at questionable consent for individual acts.

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This gorgeously hot story in which her dominant commands her to pleasure him is written by Sirensgrace from Fetlife, and it’s read here by Girl on the Net. Note that this piece contains facefucking and the use of ‘master’ and ‘slave’ in a kink context. 

She kneels on a plush carpet, legs slightly apart, head bowed: waiting. She feels the cool air on her skin, the parts not covered by lingerie, which is most of it. The narrow waistband of her panties hugging her hips, the straps of the bra over her shoulders, its delicate shimmering butterflies in sharp contrast to the rough fucking she knows is coming.

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