This fantasy is written and read aloud as audio by Blake (aka Pandora Blake) who runs the incredible Dreams of Spanking website. Blake is one of my adult industry heroes – they create fabulous queer, kinky content, fight against industry censorship, and they’re also one of the first people I ever worked with in this industry. I owe so much of my knowledge and passion to them. A while ago Blake and I collaborated on a couple of really fun interviews – you can find one half on my Patreon here and the other on Blake’s Patreon over here. As part of that collaboration we also exchanged a few audio porn stories to be published on each other’s websites. I shared some of my spankier fantasies with Dreams, and they shared some stunning spanking fantasy erotica with me as well. On top of this, Blake very kindly let me publish this fantastic extract from the first draft of their book on erotic fantasies. It’s dark and raw and – thanks to Patreon terms and conditions – impossible to publish over there or as part of the Patreon-funded audio project. Hence why it’s going up here in the guest blog slot. I’m so honoured that Blake is up for sharing this piece, and I hope that reading or listening to it gives you a taste of why I’m such a fan of their style: embracing and accepting the taboo things that our sexual selves often desire, while understanding the clear line between our fantasies and reality. Note that this story includes themes of implied non-consent and sex slavery, bondage, severe corporal punishment and penetration – particularly anal penetration with a biological cock. 

Impossible fantasies

Our earliest fantasies often have so much longevity because they arose during a time characterised by intense pubescent longing. Our first crushes, the first glimpses of another person which turned us on – all these are memories of wanting something we couldn’t have.

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The following post involves intense BDSM, in a violent role play context, and it is also incredibly beautifully (and consensually) written. I don’t know that there are many people who could write the scene below well enough to balance consent and fear, but BibulousOne and EuclideanPoint are both fantastic sex writers and kinksters who I admire hugely. When they sent through their pitch about this incredible kinky interrogation scene, I found myself simultaneously nervous and also deeply excited. And to me that’s often what the best BDSM scenes are all about: the intersection of pleasure and pain, fear and excitement. This story absolutely took my breath away. Not just for the intensity of the scene itself but from the careful and consensual way they go about explaining its origins. Huge thanks to both of them for sharing this stunning kinky interrogation…

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This fabulous sexy snippet about the cane is written by Sirensgrace from Fetlife, and it’s read here by Girl on the Net. 

The cane lands across my ass with a sharp crack, pushing a moan from my lips.

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I am so delighted to welcome Dissembling Cub back to the blog. Their last piece, on bottom euphoria, was absolutely spectacular and deeply horny. This new post – about birching, the history of it as well as a stunningly hot account of a birching scene – took my breath away so hard it was almost like I was the one being thrashed. If you enjoy DC’s work you should also check out their fabulous long-form story The Forthenby Inheritance: an erotic comedy of manners set in the Regency period. Meanwhile please, oh my God please, enjoy the fuck out of this stunning guest blog. The image that illustrates this piece, by the way, is the actual hazel birch from the story.

Note: this story contains references to birching as corporal punishment – in a historical (non-consensual) context as well as a modern (and consensually kinky) one. It also refers to a ‘schoolboy scene’ and school role play, but all participants are over the age of 18. 

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This fabulous first time femme domme story is written and recorded by Robyn of RobynEatsEverything. This piece contains BDSM including impact play, nipple clamps, and a pinwheel.

As my finger hovers a centimetre away from their skin, threatening to make contact, they start to beg; they whimper and whine and plead with me to touch them. Their face is contorted, their eyes crumpled closed, as though the lack of touch is causing them excruciating pain. I study them and consider gently pushing my finger into their chest, granting them the relief they’re so desperate for, but only briefly; it is far too delicious watching them tremble and quake. As my finger continues to float its way across their naked body, closely following the contours of their chest, they let out an anguished groan as they realise they’re not going to feel it.

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