This is ‘Inspection’ – part one of a 2-part story written and read by Molly Moore. Note that this fantasy has elements of consensual non-consent and coercion, as well as fairly graphic debasement, humiliation and clinical medical play.

“Open your mouth.”

I part my lips and drop my jaw. He has his back to me. I hear the sound of the gloves as he pulls them on. Snap. Snap. He turns to face me. His eyes meet mine and then a frown plays across his face.

“Wider,” he says firmly.

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In drama at school we used to play a warm-up game that involved cutting a deck of cards to determine each character’s status. We’d be given a scenario, let’s say person A is a teenager who’s broken a vase during a house party while their parents were away, and B and C are the parents returning home. If you just tell people to play what they think those characters should do, the scene will run in a fairly obvious way. Parents discover the accident, interrogate their kid about how the breakage happened, the child is suitably apologetic/nervous of the consequences, etc. However, if you have each person cut the deck of cards and replay the scene, this time assuming status and power depending on which card they got, things look very different. Let’s say the kid gets a Jack or a Queen, Mum gets a 9 and Dad picks a 2. Now the kid has the most power, and might end up berating their parents for owning something so expensive in the first place. Mum is the kid’s semi-obsequious sidekick, agreeing with him while occasionally sniping at Dad for not anticipating that this might happen before he booked their weekend away. Dad grovels before both of them, frantically trying to make amends for an accident that, in his low-status role, he’s entirely reframed as his fault. See what I mean? Status isn’t inherent to each character, it’s determined by the luck of the draw. And status, power and playfulness are all at the heart of my idea for a Blackadder Threesome. Here’s one for all the horny switches.

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Let’s get this out of the way to start with: I am not foolish enough to believe I’m the first person ever to wonder what kinky sex is like in the Dark Materials universe. Specifically in Lyra’s world, one in which everyone has their own daemon – a creature with whom you share a connection, who accompanies you at all times, and essentially functions as an external manifestation of your soul. The second you create a world with such creatures, and moreover declare that it’s taboo to touch someone else’s, inevitably you’re going to prompt a generation of perverts to grow up wondering what it’d be like to have your lover’s snake-daemon wrapped around your throat while they rail you. I know I’m not the first to explore this horny avenue, and I certainly won’t be the last. But it’s fun to ponder the implications of a world in which a part of your soul manifests in the form of an animal which is both reflective of your personality yet physically distinct from your human body, and how that might lend itself to some outrageously hot fuckplay. Strap in, my friends, cos this is gonna get… how shall I put it? … bestial.

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I missed the Kink of the Week deadline for this, but the topic – inspection – reminded me of a story I don’t think I’ve ever told you. It didn’t have an obviously fucky ending, so it never feel like a good fit, but this is one of the hottest things a man has ever done to me.

I met him in the summer. A mutual friend was hosting a barbecue, and everyone was milling around on the patio at the back of the house, sipping drinks and swapping stories in the sunshine. You could be forgiven for thinking it was a standard suburban get-together… if people hadn’t also been occasionally smacking each other’s arses or revealing the odd flash of tit.

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This fabulous piece about being a ‘leg man’ is written and read by JM Seaborn of WrittenInKink.com. Note that this story contains use of ‘Daddy’ as an honorific – all participants are over 18. 

Give them to me in tights and heels after a long day of work. Then, the moment you open the door, I’ll lift you off the ground, rip your underwear, bite your neck, and fuck you through the wall until you can’t even remember your boss’ name.

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