I haven’t had many guest blogs that cover the pleasures of needle play. I’ve keyworded this for ‘sharps kink’ in general because this doesn’t always involve needles: sometimes people use staples or knives instead, but broadly we’re talking piercing here. Penetrating the skin. As is so often the way when my blog is lacking in a particular kink topic, the incredible Jenby Doll has an outrageously cool story to fill in the aching gap. Today she’s here to talk about what I believe to be one of the most romantic uses of staples ever to hit the BDSM community. Do not try to change my mind on this: it’s made up. Take it away Jenby…

Note: needles, staples, blood. 

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How much control would you hand to a stranger? Would you ever be willing to sexually submit to one? Today’s incredible guest blog is about two people who decided to take a risky, sexy leap into the unknown, and the hot scene that transpired when they met in person. It should go without saying (but I’ll say it anyway) that this is not a how-to guide. The people who did this are both experienced kinksters who care about safety, knew each other by reputation and embarked on detailed consent negotiations. It’s not a risk everyone should take, but I’m delighted to publish this guest blog because it’s written by two people whose reputations for care and consent in kink precede them: please welcome the fabulous EuclideanPoint and Harley (of HarlequinWorks) who have an unusual and very hot story to tell…

Note that this story contains pretend kidnapping, impact play, blood play, and restraints. 

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Note that this horror erotica contains blood, violence and brief/abstract references to suicidal ideation. Written by the fabulous Scorpio Appetites, it originally appeared on his website and it’s brought to life as audio porn for Halloween by the wonderful Luke. 

The cash machine was a monument to the departed amid a battleground of empty bottles and polystyrene boxes. Gemma groaned as she stood in a kebab, and managed to get her card in on the fifth or sixth try. She punched in her PIN through muscle memory alone. The lurid display informed her she had £3.47 left in her account. Not even enough for a burger, let alone a taxi.

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There, I said it. And I apologise in advance, because usually I like to lean in to Halloween a little at this time of year – write a story in which I try to scare you. Something about zombies or werewolves or vampires or sirens luring unsuspecting humans into bringing them fresh prey. But this year, my plans for a story about sex-hungry ghosts or demonic possession went awry. Something malevolent took up residence in my brain, its claws embedded firmly in the part that deals with writing, refused to let me conjure one of those stories. So instead you get this: a pretty standard blog post about why the scent of period blood makes me really horny.

CN: this post contains blood, violence and some elements of non-consent. No men were harmed in the writing of it.

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This supernatural erotica, by sex blogger Ella Scandal, originally appeared on her website. It is read aloud here by Leo DiLuca. 

She’s bound by chains made of shadow. They’re coiled around her ankles and her wrists. Twisting and intertwining, crossing over and through each other until they reach their respective rings around her collar. Holding her, grounding her, controlling her. Each link insubstantial, incorporeal. Indestructible.

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