This bored and ignored scenario is the next in the wank tales series, which I tried to write up to balance out some of the more aggressive and brutal ones. There’s still a lot of desperation/urgency in this one, but way more consent. In the spectrum of what I tend to find hot, this is at the cutest end. 

I’m reading a book. It doesn’t need to be an erotic book, and in fact it’s probably better if it isn’t. Just a book that I’m really absorbed by: perhaps a re-read of one of my favourite page-turners or something brand new by an author I adore. I’m lying across the bed on my stomach with my nose buried in a Kindle. He comes in and lies next to me on the bed.

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This delicious fantasy about being the ‘backstage girl’ is written and read by the fabulous Barefoot Sub, and originally appeared on her website. 

There I was, outside the door that would take me to him. I had dreamt about this moment since he first came into my life, since the first time I was allowed to see him, albeit a photograph. Though the fantasy that I knew would never be brought to reality had been deep-rooted since my teens, being invited to one of his gigs was almost as good. I could stand in the crowd, listen to him play, watch his fingers dance over the frets knowing exactly what those fingers could do. I would mirror those fingers as I followed my instructions, to edge myself during the course of his set. I wasn’t allowed to orgasm, but he wanted to be able to find my eyes and see my heat through the crowd.

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I dipped into Twitter occasionally when I was on leave last month, and one of the things I spotted was a tweet that made me riotously horny. It was from @19syllables, one of my favourite people on Twitter (her feed is so full of joy and beauty, I love her). She tweeted “Kiss chase, but you and me in a forest and if you catch me you can take me.” It gave me all the soft-yet-powerful horny feelings. So I wrote this.

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This fabulous piece, in which you get the prostate play you requested, is written and read by Molly Moore and originally appeared on her website. 

You are such a good boy for me. I like it when you do as you told, like today, for example. The message I sent you on my way home read: “Be naked on the bed. Use the under-bed restraints and attach the ankle cuffs. I will be back at exactly 1pm. Be ready.”

And you were.

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Next in the wank-tales series, in which I tell you some of the fantasies that I masturbate over (and which are precious to me, please don’t kinkshame), I’m gonna take you forward to an unspecified point in the future when most of humanity has been wiped out and the remnants are trapped in huge communal bunkers. This piece includes some dubious consent (potentially non-consent, but I’ve tried to write a few consent cues into the text so it’s less brutal than it is in my head). As explained before, I have a kink for misogyny, and fantasies about being used fit the bill for that kink pretty well. As per previous stories like free use secretary, this is not a how-to manual for life, it is only fun in fantasy and role play. Features some BDSM/beating, aggression and coercion too. Here’s a story about being on post-apocalypse relief duty.

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