Archive | Memes RSS for this section

My Writing Process

I’ve been tagged in a meme-style thing that’s going around at the moment by SheBoppin. And it was really fun to do! I definitely enjoyed writing about writing, even if my writing at the moment is a bit different to how it might be normally.

I believe I’m supposed to tag people at the end to carry on the meme, but frankly I’ve no idea who hasn’t already done one and I’ve also always hated singling people out for stuff like this in case I leave someone out and upset them. So, if you’re reading this blog post and you haven’t done it yourself yet, consider yourself tagged!

Without further ado…

First Off: What am I working on?

I’m not! Or rather I’ve just finished something, so I’m actually between writing projects at the moment. The future, of course, holds more reviews, more Very Short Stories, more posts in general and more submissions to erotica anthologies. In fact, that’s what I’ve just finished. I’ve been a busy bee over the last week or so doing research, plotting, writing and self-editing for an anthology of historical erotica, specifically set in the 1920s.

It was hard! Not only has it been a little while since I’ve written erotic fiction of any real length but I’ve never done historical before. And I may never do so again! I very much enjoyed all my initial research (I’m quite a fan of the ’20s already, which helps), but I found myself researching a lot more during the actual story itself than I’d expected. At some points nearly every sentence required a Google search! Notably, I wasted at least half an hour trying to work out what 1920s department store changing rooms, if any, were like. Then I scrapped that bit entirely anyway. Yay.

In any case, the story’s been accepted, so watch this space for news on the anthology!

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

Well, that depends which of “my work” we’re talking about. when it comes to reviews, I think I probably go into a little more detail than most, which leaves my reviews thorough but perhaps a little lengthy. I’d love to be snappier and punchier with them, like some of my favourite reviewers, but I just can’t bring myself to leave anything out, just in case someone finds it helpful. I also don’t sugar the pill. I’ve seen some reviewers reviewing products that I just can’t believe they’ve actually enjoyed. Sure, people are different, but I sometimes wonder if they’re just much less critical than me.

When it comes to general sex blogging, I think I’m still a rambly but it’s more because of a sort of conversational tone than any thoroughness. Clearly I just can’t shut up. I also like to spatter the blog with geeky references, but, hey, that’s just my life. Full of nerd.

As for erotica, I actually don’t feel I’m really qualified to answer! I’d love to know! And, heck, if you think you know any distinctive features of my erotica, I’d love to know what you think they are. I won’t bite. For some of my erotica, especially my flash fiction, I’ve noticed a bit of a tendency to try to evoke and use nostalgia. I like that and I hope it works well.

Why do I like what I do?

Again, it depends. I’m not actually sure why I like reviews except that I love sex toys, I love having Very Important Opinions and I think I don’t actually suck at reviewing, which is nice. Plus, I enjoy setting up the photos of the toys too.

For writing about my actual sex life, well… I’m not actually sure I do any more. Yeah. Awkward. It’s not that Crush and I don’t have good sex any more, we totally do (and we also have sex which is just “fine”, because that’s relationships), it’s just that I don’t really think I’m interested in blogging about it any more. And I have no idea why. It’s something I’ve not really come to any decision on yet, sort of hoping to avoid it, but it shouldn’t stop me writing the blog.

At “worst”, the focus will shift even more onto reviews, erotica and stuff about sex rather than me going on about me having sex. Because I’m not actually sure what the point of that is any more. I started the blog to be sexual when I felt “real life” wasn’t fit for that. These days, well, I’m a fucking adult, I can talk about sex all I like in real life and anyone who doesn’t like it can go to hell. Not so much need for a specific space for it any more.

As for erotica, well, I’ve always loved to write creatively. I wanted to be an author for quite a chunk of my childhood. And now, whilst I’m not making a living off it (or really trying to at the moment), I guess an author is what I am. Which… still feels a bit fraudulent to say, but, hey, Amazon agrees with me. Writing creatively about sex, incidentally, still absolutely grabs me. I think I might be channelling all my energy for writing erotically about sex into fiction rather than fact, perhaps.

How does my writing process work?

Reviews are easy. During periodic testing, I first jot down anything that leaps out at me about the toy. It all goes into a draft post as it comes out of my head. I rearrange that to suit the flow of a review and then see what else I can mention about the toy when I sit and think about it. I then look back at a previous review of mine and follow that same rough structure, using my notes and adding more details where necessary. Then it’s a quick proofread and post. Done.

For fiction, it’s harder. Er, panic? If the theme of the story needs research (like my latest ’20s one), I research. I think over hooks and ideas for what the plot could be or what my angle on the theme might be. I make notes of snippets or inspirations that appeal to me. I try to find a story that grabs me. I can usually feel whether or not I can make an idea work.

Once I’ve got an idea, I try to hash out a vague order of events or scenes and then I just start writing, beginning to end. Rainy Mood is essential, because silence cripples my creative thought process (but not my other ones). If I’m on a topic that suits music (jazz for the ’20s or tango for Take Your Partner), I can work with one non-intrusive instrumental piece on repeat. No new stimuli.

When I’ve finally finished (I get quicker the further in I go), I get Crush to read over it for typos and inconsistencies. Then I send it to a beta-reader (or two) who is usually the divine and intensely skilled Lady Pandorah. If she likes it, I know it’s not crap. I work on any feedback or clarifications needed and then send it off!

Eroticon 2014 Meet & Greet

♦ So, it’s nearly Eroticon 2014! Well, it’s not. But it’s nearly nearly it. And that’s close enough to start getting really excited!

For those that don’t know, Eroticon is a yearly convention for erotica writers and sex bloggers with many, many different sessions on everything from spanking to SEO and more. I’ve been going every year since it started and I love it. Absolutely fantastic.

Every year there’s a little online set of questions to serve as an introduction to those attending. Here are my answers!

What’s your name?

Blacksilk. It’s definitely my real name and everything.

What are you most looking forward to about Eroticon 2014?

The fantastic sessions, that’s one thing. They are just amazing. Although I find myself much more muddle-minded this year about which to go to. Some jump out obviously, but others could be equally good and it’s so hard to decide!

Aside from that, it’s seeing all my blog friends again. There are less events that we go to than there used to be, so it’s been far, far too long. I miss you!

What are you most nervous of about Eroticon 2014?

Last year I had, essentially, an incredibly sensitive stomach brought on by nerves, plus a great dollop of anxiety, which really made me far too poorly-feeling to get anywhere near the most out of the event. I’m nervous that’ll happen this year, but I’ll know what’s going on and how to deal with it this time, so I should be well-armed against it!

What do you hope to get from Eroticon 2014?

My mojo back. I’ve become a bit lacklustre lately and I know Eroticon will be full of absolutely bollock-loads of inspiration and, let’s be honest, mild jealousy at the motivation of others. That should be enough to get me back into the swing of things.

What is your bad erotica writer’s pen name?

Well, people often shorten Blacksilk to BS. Luckily, I don’t mind! With that in mind, it makes my bad erotica writer’s pen name… Robustia Orificeicle. I’ll bust your orifice…. icle. If you know what I mean. Er…

Readers, why not comment with your bad erotica writer’s pen name below?

Bad Erotica Writer's Name

Dildology: Love Dildos? Donate!

♦ Regular readers of this blog or followers of my Twitter no doubt know I’m what some people could call a Sex Toy Snob. Sure, I get picky about limited colour choices and the gendering of fuck objects and the weakness of certain shitty vibrators, but there’s one area where I just don’t think the label Sex Toy Snob applies, because it’s just what everyone should be worried about.

The safety of your sex toys.

See, many of them just aren’t safe. You’ll have heard me talk before about my own bad experiences with dodgy jelly toys, how they went icky and gave me chemical burns, and you may have even read my 10 Reasons To Avoid Jelly Sex Toys. It’s easy then, isn’t it? Just avoid jelly! Sadly, that’s not the case. Horrible chemicals like phthalates aren’t just limited to jelly, they’re found in all sorts of porous sex toy materials, not to mention the fact that porous materials are impossible to truly clean. Well, surely just avoid those, then?

But it isn’t that easy. Unfortunately, sex toys aren’t regulated and there is no way you can know what on Earth a material with a fancy name like Crystalessence or Sil-a-gel is (unless you do some snooping) or even that a toy that says it’s phthalates-free or made of silicone is either of those things.

Until now.

Dildology Logo

Dildology.org is a not-for-profit organisation and awesomeness-machine run by Crista Anne, Dangerous Lilly and Val Orenda with the purpose of raising the money to scientifically test sex toys in a proper laboratory to discover once and for all what’s really in them and if they’re actually safe for us. Their mission statement reads:

The sex toy industry is on the rise, yet it remains largely unregulated. Dildology.org intends to provide material verification services and maintain a public database of the results, adding transparency and oversight to the industry while educating the public about the science behind pleasure products. We stand on our own, unaffiliated and uninfluenced, and we are dedicated to protecting the health and well-being of the dildo-loving population at large through education (and maybe a little entertainment).

As an unbiased, unaffiliated, non-profit organisation, Dildology.org can’t take on any advertising in order to raise money, so they are asking for your kind donations. The majority of donations will go towards product testing and the rest will be used for fundraising incentives, equipment for experiments and the development of educational resources. And testing itself is hardly cheap at around $200-450 (£130-300) per toy tested.

When Lilly started the Dildology.org fundraising blog carnival, I knew I had to help out, hence this post. I’m already sold on how awesome Dildology.org is and, more crucially, how important and necessary it is for the safety of all sex toy users. I’m going to go donate, and get my friends to too, right after I post this, so I don’t need convincing. But maybe you do, so here’s some…

FOR REVIEWERS: The original sex toy tested by the Dildologists, the Jimmyjane Hello Touch, actually failed the common reviewer method of testing whether a toy is silicone or not: the flame test. But the lab results prove that the Hello Touch is indeed silicone. I don’t know about you, but I’m not keen on a world in which even us reviewers, the people who are supposed to know about sex toys, can’t actually test for sure if something is silicone or not. The flame test has failed us, we need something new. We need the Dildologists.

FOR CONSUMERS: We use sex toys for a reason: to improve our sex lives and to have a lot of, hopefully orgasmic, pleasure. We can’t improve our sexual happiness with dodgy materials, dangerous chemicals and absolutely no say over what goes into our own bodies. You really can’t tell me you don’t care what goes in there. At the very least we need to become informed consumers armed with the right to choose. And right now we just can’t have that. We need the Dildologists.

Dildologist T-shirtFOR EVERYONE: Dildology.org are looking to raise $1,500 throughout this blog carnival, and they’re willing to offer juicy incentives to donors. US and Canadian donations of $15+ will receive a 15% off code for SheVibe, UK and European donations of $15+ (£10+) will receive a code for 10% off Lovehoney brand products and Australian donations of $15+ will receive a code for 10% off storewide at MissX. Plus, at $50 (plus $15 for international shipping), you get this awesome t-shirt.

Tantus Curve DildoodleFROM ME: If you donate $30 (£20) or more to Dildology.org, you can get a free sex toy drawing called a Dildoodle (see right for an example) signed and hand-drawn by me for you of the sex toy of your choice (subject to me freaking out that I can’t draw that).

Send me an email after you donate and, once I confirm your donation, I’ll get chatting with you about what toy you want me to draw and send to you. It’s not much, I know, but I want to add a personal thank you.

So, please donate what you can, check out the rest of the great posts in the Dildology.org Blog Carnival Fundraiser and spread the word to everyone you can about this amazing cause. For safety, for science, for sex toys. ♦

Donate for Dildology

Odd Little Snippets – NaPoWriMo

♦ It’s no wonder I never have time for NaBloPoMo or NaNoWriMo, I’ve barely had time to keep up with NaPoWriMo either! It’s now day ten of the month and I’ve written eight poems, which the observant among you will realise is not ten. I’ve been feeling a bit poorly, so I’ve spent the last couple of days playing catch-up on the poetry side of things. Here’s the odd little snippets of poetry I’ve come up with, some more serious than others, since last time

Real Women

Ladies, real women
Don’t ever use phrases like
“Ladies, real women..”

Lapdog

Adorable you
Nestled at my warm hip
Like a naked dog

Tea Fetish

Sometimes I think I’d like to be a sachet of tea leaves
And plunge, head-first, into you
And feel the heat of you surrounding me, infiltrating me
And slowly sink down into your depths
And infuse into you, spreading out, sighing
And mix my essence with yours
So that we are no longer Tea Bag and Hot Water
But one soft and molten brew
Tea, that fawn infusion
Life-giver, bliss-bringer
A cup of us, inseparable

Just Say No

True friends don’t let friends
I say, true friends don’t let friends
Buy furry handcuffs

Let’s Play

Let’s play the tease game
Let’s let my hands run over your rear
Try not to let your erection grow
Let’s let me moan softly into your ear
Try not to let your excitement show
Let’s let me squeeze your rigid cock
Try not to let your desire peak
Let’s let me flirt and let me mock
Try not to take the fun you seek
Here in public, here where people see
Let’s play the tease game: one, two three…

So, the poems. Real Women and Just Say No are designed to be very tongue-in-cheek, if you hadn’t yet guessed, whereas Lapdog is a more serious haiku.

Let’s Play (a lovely, nerdy title) is an erotic poem with elements of some sort of children’s skipping game? The last line is certainly very “Peep behind the curtain: one, two, three”. And finally, Tea Fetish is an odd little poem about wanting to be so close to someone that you’re happy to melt into each other. It’s about bliss, I guess, but what do you expect from a poem about tea?

Anyway, how are your NaPoWriMo efforts going? And what do you think of mine? I’m always keen for feedback. ♦

Wicked Wednesday

Prompted Poems – NaPoWriMo

♦ For those of you who don’t yet know, April is NaPoWriMo: National Poem Writing Month. And I’ve decided to take part! I’ve always enjoyed writing poetry and I’ve written a fair few poems on this blog before now. It’s an easier activity to fit around my hectic life than NaNoWriMo (a novel) or NaBloPoMo (blog posts) and, besides which, since Ashley Lister’s poetry workshop at Eroticon 2013, I’ve been determined to write more poetry. Ashley suggests that even writing just a haiku a day is great practice for a writer, so this is a great time to give that a test.

So, without further ado, here are the poems I’ve written for the first three days of April. They’ve all been prompted from a single word or phrase I stumbled upon in my search for inspiration.

Empire – A Haiku (from the prompt “empire”)

Fingertip army
Marches onwards to conquer
Your empire of skin

The Temple (from the prompt “my body is a temple”)

“My body is a temple”, you said
And I nodded my head:

“Your eyes are bowls of sacred oils
Your hair, a silken sash
The scars at your knees are frescos of the divine
And your lips, painted with the blood of sacrifice”

“Your feet are the altar at which I lay my head
Your hands, burnished candelabra
The scent of your body is incense and ash
And your sighs, soft tinkles of swinging chimes”

“You’re taking the piss”, you said
And I shook my head:

“When I lift my face and drink deep of your holy cup
You hum, you coil, you create and destroy
The walls of your church vibrate and shake
And rapture is sung by every nerve”

“Your body is temple, my love
And I worship at your cunt”

Hush – A Haiku (from the prompt “quietly”)

Hush. Come quietly.
Your big sister is sleeping.
Moan into my hand.

These poems were varying levels of difficulty and time to write. The first, Empire, was easy but took a little time to get the syllables working for me. The Temple was actually one I started on one day and finished the next, because I wasn’t quite sure where I was going with the end of it. It was mostly written on the bus. I’m still not 100% convinced. Hush was written in literally about two minutes as I finished this blog post and has a nice, threatening undercurrent that I like.

As NaPoWriMo continues, I’ll post more (if not all) of my efforts to show you. And I’ll make sure to have 30 poems, even if they’re 29 haikus and a longer one, at the end. For now, though, what do you think of these? And are you taking part in NaPoWriMo this year? ♦

Wicked Wednesday

Cunt Colouring

Cunt Colouring

Click picture to embiggen.

♦ First things first. I didn’t draw this cunt, I just coloured it in. Yes, that’s right, today I spent a chunk of my afternoon colouring in in an actual colouring book as if I was eight all over again. And it was brilliant.

Because this colouring book isn’t fairies and dragons and swords (though I would totally still colour all those things). No, this the Cunt Colouring Book.

It’s a series of line drawings of real, actual vulvas of all sorts of shapes and sizes and idiosyncrasies that you can colour in at your leisure and it was originally designed for sex eduction back in the 1970s. The author and artist, Tee Corinne says:

“As adults many of us still need to learn about our external sexual anatomy. Colouring is a way for the child in each of us to revision and reclaim this portion of our bodies from which we have been estranged.”

I couldn’t agree more. I recently took Crush on a little tour of my vulva and vagina because, although he’s very used to touching me and making me feel good there, we realised he’d very little anatomical and technical knowledge of all the different names for all the different parts and so on.

So I sat down with a mirror to help me show him all the wonders of the pussyverse and noticed a startling thing. I didn’t really know that that’s what my own cunt looked like. I found myself drawn in by the wrinkles and folds and curves, the way it changed shape when I moved. Even I, someone very familiar tactilely with her cunt, was still in a way “estranged” from it.

I’d bought this book for a friend a few years back, but I decided I wanted one for myself and I’ve really enjoyed filling in the wriggly and flowing lines of the human vulva. So far, I’ve done a couple of “”outrageously” coloured cunts (a blue and yellow artsy one and a green-with-purple-pubes She Hulk one) as well as the more standard one shown above.

And I have to say I’m quite proud of my colouring here, with its delicate pinks and peaches that look almost like Raspberry Ripple. If I can find the appropriate pens and pencils, I want to do a nice, engorged, reddened one next and then experiment with skin tones different to my own. What’s strange is that I really do feel like I’m gaining a higher appreciation for the glorious cunt through this. I loved them before, of course, especially my own, but taking the care and attention to look at one with a careful eye is an enlightening experience which I wholly recommend.

If you’ve the inkling, try it and do show us all what you come up with. And if you’ve not, just settle for trying to absorb what this book teaches you: cunts are as varied as fingerprints and flowers, cunts are beautiful, powerful and far too glorious to be “perfect”, cunts are to be loved and looked after, cunts are not for shutting away and shaming, cunts are to be truly appreciated and to be proud of.

And, you know, if I’m feeling artistically brave in future, I may even try to draw my own to colour in! ♦

SinfulSunday

Moonglasses

♦ Every time I look at my LELO Luna Beads, I think how they’d make fantastic stoopid-lookin’ eyes for some of the toys or masks or people (hey, Crush) I’ve got lying around. So this time I did it. I was a bit pressed for time, so I mucked the lighting up on the right of the shot, but I think it’s juuuust cute enough to work anyway. So I plonked these kegel balls (the phrase “jiggle balls” can fuck off) on their fluffy little faces. Smooth customers.

For those who are wondering, the little fluffy ones featured here are the completely adorable pigs from Sanrio’s Monokuro Boo (lit: “monochrome oink”) franchise of useless cutesy things I’ve never needed but have bought anyway. I’ve never been able to work out if the two pigs (who love each other very much and are “an attractive couple, even though we don’t know whether they have thick heads, or they are sullen”) have individual names, but I call mine Mono and Kuro. Unsurprisingly, I got these in Japan.

Aren’t they awesome? I think the style suits the delicate and somewhat cute colours of the Luna Beads and they certainly look ridiculously cool and also just ridiculous in their moonglasses. They should start an adorable Pigsploitation detective agency. ♦

Toy with me Tuesday

Ten Hut! – 100 Orgasms

♦ “Close your eyes,” I said and he did. He lay back on the bed and shut them firmly, anticipating, always eager to obey when he knew I had something planned. I did have something planned, even if that plan had come together in the space of five minutes in the next room, rooting through The Drawers for kink and kit.

We’re having our housewarming this weekend and it’s fancy dress, because fancy dress is fucking fantastic. I’ve been making a military beret for mine and something clicked in my head when I saw it lying there, discarded. I’d been thinking lacy and stockings, but now…

I shut the door behind me and straddled him at the hips.  When I allowed him to open his eyes he saw me dressed in the green beret and a very military-like khaki jumpsuit buttoned to the collarbone. I carried a crop under my arm, swagger stick style. I swear his eyes almost bulged from his head.

He was dressed only in his trousers and he looked beautiful. I’d already been impressed earlier that day by how gorgeous his arms looked: swimmer’s muscles, lean and lithe but strong.

You’ll have to forgive me. I may say it myself, but what he said to me and what I said to him and the roleplaying was so fucking hot. But I forget. My waves of orgasms are too good at wiping out the coastal villages of my memory. The details merge, the lines become brush strokes of eroticism on an Impressionist painting.

So, yeah, I forget stuff.

But the night was swimming with “Yes, Ma’am”s and permission asked and occasional cheek given. I enjoyed ordering him around and domming shit up and punishing insubordination where I found it, rewarding good behaviour too.

I unbuttoned the top of the khaki jumpsuit to show my breasts, naked but for a fishnet bodystocking and, supporting them, an almost Steampunk “bra belt”. My nipples poked through the black fishnet and I leant in towards his face. He sucked on my left nipple with ardour and I gasped and ground into his body beneath me.

Before I knew it, I was surprising myself with an orgasm. My grinding into him wasn’t even involved! This was all from his attention on one of my nipples and I inwardly praised my body as I shuddered on top of him.

Military-style banter that I so wish I could remember followed. Trust me: fucking hot. Crush respectfully suggested we try the experiment again to see if we could reproduce those results and I agreed, but this time I demanded to lie on my back.

He took my nipple in his mouth again and he began to suck, but my nipple wouldn’t be so easily swayed this time. No matter. As he sucked hard I began to rub my crotch over my jumpsuit and, not that he knew that, my black PVC thong underneath. I rubbed furiously, so turned on by his desire and the sheer fucking hotness of it all. Soon I was shuddering, a second orgasm rippling through me.

Now Crush was bold with lust and, as we switched places again, asked me if he could spank me.

Well, I was in charge as his Commanding Officer, so what to do? But a filthy thought occurred. I quite like the idea of hurting a man, something he might not necessarily like, as a form of payment by him to get something he really wants. I’m not sure what it is about it. Perhaps the idea that his lusts have overtaken him so?

In any case, I offered the price of five pinches of his nipple for an undefined period of spanking me. He accepted nervously and I began, gently, to pinch him. I brusquely told him to count and he did. But he tried to be cheeky, tried to count three when it was two. So I started again. He counted the fourth pinch before I’d actually done it, so guess what? I started again.

This time there were no mistakes and I dismounted him, leaning forward on hands and knees as he spanked me with the red paddle. Sometimes I hate that paddle. Sometimes, as you’ll see, I love it. But right now it was a hard one to take.

Take it I did, though.

Now naked, he sat on the edge of the bed and I produced my black metal handcuffs from the little pile of toys I’d brought in. I set them down and, hot from our exertions, stripped the khaki jumpsuit from my body. Now he saw the thong and the full glory of my bodystocking as its netting covered my sticky-hot curves.

The hat, I noticed, fell some time during the spanking. Now it was pure kinkwear, but we kept up our roles nonetheless. My geek society would be proud. :P

I opened the cuffs, managing to hook them into my fishnet on the way. Sigh. Unhooking them, I instead attached them to my intended target. I grabbed them by the chain and hoicked his arms above his head, scratching at his chest and back and eyeing him fiercely.

Letting go, I made him scoot up the bed and knelt between his legs, bringing my beloved Tango vibe with me. I placed it between my labia, cushioned by them and kept in place by my thong and thighs. I turned it on and felt it throb. I kissed my way up Crush’s body, crawling seductively, reaching his cock and…

…running my tongue playfully a centimetre above his shaft as if licking, but not. A tease. A torture.

The kisses marched up his chest and neck before I turned and swooped back down on his cock, licking for real this time, making love to him with tongue and lips. I was feral, enthusiastic, I moaned when he leaked pre-come and writhed back and forth, managing to rock against the vibrator nestled in my folds. I came once, twice as I licked fervently and then collapsed on his cock.

I offered to let him fuck me, right then and there. But Crush was on task. He knew I had a goal to reach and figured one more towards it before moving on couldn’t hurt. He asked me to carry on licking and sucking and coming on my bullet vibe, but this time he wanted some dirty talk. And, narcissist that he is, heh, dirty talk about him.

So I told him as I licked him about how hot he makes me, how sexy he looks, his gorgeous body, his thick cock and I licked and sucked. I wriggled and turned up the rumble on my vibrator until I came again, moaning on his cock, gagging myself with his erection.

The finest part of the evening was still to come though. And I’m not even talking about the penetration. No, while that was fantastic, I think I liked the next part better. Remember I said sometimes I love the red paddle?

He wanted to use it on me again, this time while I continued to use the vibrator on myself. I was only too quick to oblige.

It was interesting how through the whole thing, I was still in charge. Even when I asked him what he wanted, even when I shuddered under his hand as he spanked me. It was strange, although it shouldn’t be, and wonderful. I was his superior officer, he a lowly subordinate and I was using him for my kicks. Simple as. Whether he spanked me or not, it was my will and I could easily have him court marshalled in a snap, naturally.

I discarded the ridiculously-named “bra belt” and the thong and leant forward on the bed. He spanked me as I toyed with my clit using the vibrator and for a while it was much the same as the first spanking. Then the rumbling on my clit began to kick in and, as I worked myself towards another orgasm, I found myself wanting more and more and MORE.

“Harder,” I begged and Crush obliged. “Harder,” I cried and he hit harder still. With each gain in arousal I wanted more force, more pain. Soon I was coming hard and Crush was pounding on me as hard as he could. I had never taken this much force for this long before and I kept it up as I rolled into another fantastic climax. I was out of breath, sweating, shaking, I was full of the most wonderful feelings and sensations. I collapsed forward and turned onto my back, gazing at my beautiful lad with wide eyes.

“I love you,” I said, breaking character momentarily.

“I love you too,” he replied.

The sex that followed was frantic and amazing. Once I’d warmed to the large cock inside me, I told him he could go as hard or soft as he liked. I think he tried to teach me a lesson and soon I was bouncing, shrieking, revelling in the wonderful pleasure/pain of his rough thrusts. He came inside me after a time and we flopped next to each other, spent… ♦

Bruising

10/100

A Purring Machine – 100 Orgasms

♦ I’m doing a little project that was suggested by the wonderful Bondara sex shop thanks to a very serendipitous misread of a title online. What project is this? Well, only to have 100 orgasms in 10 days and write some sexy things about my experiences .

It sounded ridiculous at first and then I thought, hey, that’s only ten a day. It’s totally doable and weirdly intriguing. So I mentally signed myself up. I hadn’t planned to start until the weekend but then I noticed: it’s apparently National Orgasm Day today. How could I not start today?

So, I shall be writing a series of different things about what I get up to in my quest for roughly ten orgasms a day. This blog post is the first. I don’t have a particular long-term plan in my head for this little series, as I’m quite looking forward to seeing what my orgasms inspire in me, what comes out if I go in with an open mind and a blank sheet.

Anyway, below is a bit of poetry based on orgasms one and two of 100: a wake-up wank on a dozy morning. Please let me know what you think!  2/100 ♦

Sleep seeps into my bones
Like hot water into a sinking teabag
My face is fire, eyes heavy, mind a cartwheel
Of wheeling bodies and sandbags

I haul myself to solitude, away from the buzz
Trudge and slump
My idle hand seeks to make a plaything of me
Hisses between white hills and grey cloud cover
To a slumbering country of pinks and troughs
Where it plays
Staccato rhythms, the lark ascending
My middle finger circles, a motorist on a starting handle
A dynamo whirring
Cranking, shooting a Tesla coil hum through my wires
Static shivers along once-sleeping skin

Or perhaps I play
The fireman to my traction engine
The stoker of my coals
I feed the furnace, steam seeps between my thighs
The boiler of my cunt builds and sends
Hot, damp power through my body
White fills my vision
My body shudders and shakes, reawakened
Reborn, renewed, replenished
Bolts fly from their housings
An engine explosion
A singing, ringing crescendo of steam and smoke and white-hot metal
A hissing hot leak

Fingerprints dance over sodden skin
An aftershock blooms large and causes
Tender flesh to tremble again
A second spike

Lightning: a modern Prometheus cries “Live!”
The fog of sleep lifts
Dawn hits and my nerves turn to busy industry
I wake for the first time since
Opening my eyes
And trundle, alert, a purring machine

Alien Probe

♦ OK, so when I said on Twitter that I wasn’t going to post a Toy With Me Tuesday last week so that (among other things) I’d have time to take some fancy photos, I may have been being optimistic. I didn’t. But I didn’t because I spent all weekend coming up with a story for a zombie erotica anthology and starting to write it, so I think that’s pretty worthwhile.

So, yeah, today’s picture is a little last minute again. I apologise. I hope it still makes the grade though. Whilst I didn’t at all accomplish what I was trying to with this shot, I think it’s an interesting one. The toy looks cool in the light and I like the reflection of the camera from different angles. It makes the toy look sort of alien. I like to imagine I’m a reporter doing some snooping and I’ve found this weird probe thing while looking through government files, heh. What could this thing be?

Well, any ideas? Click to embiggen and for the answer (in your address bar). ♦

Toy with me Tuesday