Category Archives: queer
Interview with Safe Word author: Molly Weatherfield, a.k.a. Pam Rosenthal
2
If you missed Part I of our two-part interview with Pam Rosenthal, whose erotica pen name is Molly Weatherfield, then you will want to check out THIS POST.
Her award-winning first book, Carrie’s Story, was followed by an even more wild adventure – both in terms of plot, sex, and narrative style – Safe Word.
Here is Lola’s interview with Molly and also an amazing illustration done by our dear friend in Ukraine, Sergii. The illustration shows Lola, lying down on the floor, reading Carrie’s Story, as Pam Rosenthal (top left) looks on at her fictional author, Molly Weatherfield (top right) and Molly’s fictional character, Carrie looks to her creator with admiration.
Pam, Molly, Carrie, Lola
Questions for Pam Rosenthal, a.k.a. Molly Weatherfield – PART TWO – Safe Word
Lola – I’m so glad you enjoyed the first interview and have agreed to a second for the sequel book, Safe Word! As I said at the end of our last interview, I totally needed a sequel because I didn’t want Carrie’s Story to end – especially not where it did end. But, I have to say, Safe Word did not follow any of the possible narrative sexcapades that I had imagined at the end of Carrie’s Story – and I imagined a lot!
This will be a tricky interview because I don’t want to give away too much of the book for anyone who hasn’t read it yet, but – OMG! – you really took off for the sequel! As in, Safe Word was off to the races!
Compared to Carrie’s Story, this book has a lot of steamy man-on-man sex and BDSM. Where did that come from and, again, were you worried about pushing boundaries or even warping genres?
Safe Word by Molly Weatherfield
Molly – Actually, I was so surprised to be writing it at all, that I never thought about whether I was taking things too far. I mean, I had told everybody that Carrie’s Story was a one-off, and that I was done. And then I found out that I wasn’t, which was such a gift, and so unexpected, that I just ran with it.
As for the man-on-man sex, I don’t remember it as being a conceptual departure from the first book. It’s just that in Safe Word there are more opportunities for variation. Carrie has moved on to a bigger world, with more possibilities, while Jonathan is kind of rediscovering that world. What wasn’t entirely explicit in Carrie’s Story (though Kate is kind of grumpy about it) is that for the year or two when he’s most involved with Carrie, Jonathan has stopped being active in the association and its doings. But with Carrie gone, his old life comes rushing in on him again. What I was going for was a sense that the magnitude and the variety of this hidden world of sexual exchange and domination should be always revealing more of itself to the reader, through Carrie’s and Jonathan’s narratives of the year they’ve spent apart. I used to call this the “Snoopy’s doghouse” approach, but clearly, it was a way to conceptualize my own fantasy life as I explored it.
Lola – There were a couple of points in the novel where I laughed out loud because the plot went in such an unexpected direction. For instance, the rivalry between Carrie and Stephanie really reminded me of some of the YA books I had read. And then, while in the stable, Carrie befriends her neighbor by clandestinely using a piece of rubber tube to communicate between stalls. That reminded me of a scene from V for Vendetta, which came out much later than your book. And you mentioned to me before the interview that the first scene of the book is right from Little Women. Two more disparate books, I think, could not be found. Was this sort of juxtaposition of texts part of your plan or did it just come out that way and you realized it after?
Molly – I don’t know anything about V for Vendetta. But the Carrie and Stephanie rivalry is very YA, you’re right. And it was inspired by something that happened years ago among a bunch of adults, including me, who were traveling and working together. And because of the pressures of the situation, we found ourselves sometimes acting like bratty teenagers, even to the midnight giggling and whispering. Not proud of it, but there you are.
As for Little Women, thankfully it was only after I’d finished writing the first scene of Safe Word that I realized that I’d copped it from the scene in Little Women when Laurie first catches up with Amy in Europe. In the Greta Gerwig movie the scene is shown from the p.o.v. of Amy in the carriage with Aunt March. But in the novel, it’s very similar to the scene in Safe Word: first a kind of birds-eye view of the setting in the south of France, then focusing in on a very handsome American man who’s being rather ogled by passers-by while he waits for a particular young woman.
Here are some snippets of the passage from Little Women:
At three o’clock in the afternoon, all the fashionable world at Nice may be seen on the Promenade des Anglais, a charming place… Along this walk, on Christmas Day, a tall young man walked slowly, with his hands behind him, and a somewhat absent expression of countenance… which caused sundry pairs of feminine eyes to look approvingly after him… There were plenty of pretty faces to admire, but the young man took little notice of them, except to glance, now and then, at some blonde girl, or lady in blue.
And here are some parallel bits from Safe Word:
The city itself [Avignon] is heavily touristed… On this particular day… however, it was sunny and lively… An American man was sitting at one of the cafes… and he’d been glancing up eagerly whenever a slender young woman, especially one with close-cropped hair, came from that direction… Lots of attractive people were strolling… lots of women he liked looking at… and since he was extraordinarily good-looking… none of this was going unnoticed.
What was so remarkable to me when I finally realized what I’d done, was remembering how much I’d loved the scene in Little Women when I read it as a breathless 9-year-old, just knocked out by what I took to be its elegance and sophistication. The point of view and the rhythm of the phrasing had clearly imprinted itself onto me and yet my conscious mind didn’t remember it at all; when I was writing that part of Safe Word I was focused on the Avignon history (which are themselves copped from Francine du Plessis Gray’s At Home with the Marquis de Sade, the book I’d reviewed for Salon.com).
But then, in both Carrie books — and really in everything I’ve ever written — I used so much of what I’d read and experienced, even when it might not appear directly apposite to the subject at hand, which I think is awesome evidence of the heavy lifting the mind and memory are capable of during the creative process. Once, at a reading, I was introduced by the author and anthologist Violet Blue, who said to me, jokingly, “I feel that I know you.” To which I replied, about 90% seriously, “You do.”
Lola – Whereas Carrie’s Story was, like many erotica books, a romance novel with kinks and explicit scenes, Safe Word is a much more complex work. I really appreciated the multilayer narrative. On one level you have Carrie, who is in love with life in general and is open-minded and willing to experience all of it. (I love that about her!) But there is always the lingering question in the background of the book (carried over from the first novel) of whether she will get together with her most obvious love interest, Jonathan. But Jonathan is engaged in his own love affair with Kate. And then, because none of these characters are simple, one dimensional, or merely functional for the plot, there is always the possibility that Kate and Carrie will fall in love. I had no idea how it would end, even right up to the last pages! How did this complex plot develop?
Molly – For maybe three quarters of the process, I didn’t know how it would end either. And I guess that I only found my ending when I’d realized that I’d come to the outer limit of my erotic imagination; the feeling that I couldn’t make things any heavier, deeper, or more hardcore and still continue having fun in fantasyland.
Kate’s my favorite character in some ways. I have no idea where I got the idea for her, but I’m always wanting to know (i.e. imagine, i.e. write) more parts of her backstory, to account for her toughness and honesty. I was also kind of obsessed with how Jonathan’s such a pampered little prince: I enjoyed imagining him, but I found myself resenting how much he gets away with; I remember explaining to author and sexual activist Carol Queen that I thought of him like my cat — so beautiful that somehow he existed to be spoiled and indulged. I found their story provocative, sexy, and a bit troubling — as Carrie does, even if she begins to wonder whether it’s her story any longer.
Lola – And, while we’re on the topic of narrative complexity, the trading of stories between Carrie and Jonathan as they seduce each other and then seduce each other again was brilliant! Of course they would seduce each other with words. I can appreciate breaking with conventional narrative form. This book is so inventive, not just for erotica, but as a novel. Did you feel as if you were breaking new ground that way?
Molly – I’m not really satisfied with how it flows between Carrie’s narrative, Jonathan’s narrative, and the overriding omniscient storytelling, but it was the best I could do with what technical chops I had. So I guess the best answer is that I was breaking new ground for me, and maybe for a certain kind of erotica, but that I was and am haunted by knowing that there are narrative techniques that I didn’t (and don’t) know how to employ. Yhat isn’t at all to say that I’m sorry I wrote it. I did the best I could with what I wanted to say, and in many ways it’s my favorite of my books.
Lola – One aspect of the book I really enjoyed was that the “masters” or “owners” were not only rich men. And the “slaves” or “subs” weren’t just women. (Other than Carrie, we don’t really know their socio-economic status in the civilian world.) There is a certain sexual equality in the book, if not economic equality. I also took particular delight in Jonathan’s punishment for breaking the rules. That really put a dent in the sense that these rich folk were beyond being flogged themselves. And, it’s clear throughout that Kate is the dom to just about all the other characters. Did it just flow that way as you were writing it, or did you have a political statement in mind?
Molly – Again, the sexual equality was what I’d learned from Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty books. I didn’t have a political statement in mind, although I suppose these days you could look at it that way. At the time, though, I was just glad to be exploring the world I was imagining, and grateful to those who’d given me a world of increased possibility.
Lola – “Feminism” means something different to just about each person who uses the word. I could picture some self-proclaimed feminists (especially Second Wave Feminists) getting their panties in a bunch about your erotica. But one aspect of Third Wave Feminism that I really embrace is the sex positivity – the notion that we all have our little kinks and there’s nothing wrong with living them out loud. So much sexual repression is a function of patriarchy and a healthy sexuality can look and feel all different ways for different people, including Male Dom/Female Sub relationships. Such relationships are not necessarily symptoms or results of patriarchy, or not simply so, at least. Did you receive a lot of criticism from other women/feminists for your writing?
Molly – No criticism at all from women or feminists. I know, it’s weird, right? But true nonetheless.
Lola – I’m sorry for my ignorance, but I wasn’t even born when this book was published. So, can you indulge me a little? The pony play. Where did that come from? If I do a Google search now for “bdsm pony girl race” I will get hundreds of images of women in various states of dress (leather, buckles, naked but for the harness, etc.) with bits in their mouths pulling little rickshaws with doms ready to whip them. I lack the historical knowledge to know if all this porn was inspired by your book (was it the first of this sort?), or if there was already a sub-culture of cosplay or other BDSM play that inspired you.
Molly – Pony play was around before I wrote Carrie’s Story, but I didn’t know about it. I only found out about it after I’d finished a short first draft and was looking for ways to extend it to novel length. Visiting a San Francisco leather/fetish store for inspiration, I found a glossy magazine containing an extensive photo shoot of some real-girls’ pony farm somewhere — or maybe it was all staged, I don’t know. Anyway, I leafed through it in kind of a fearful fever dream, jammed the magazine back onto the rack, stumbled out of the store, and drove home. Only to turn around, get back in the car, drive back, buy the magazine, read it over a few times, and write the Sir Harold chapter in a crazy burst of words that I’ve never been able to equal. It wasn’t writing, exactly: it was copying, as fast as my fingers would go, what my frenzied imagination was dreaming up as fast as it could. And then I retrofitted the earlier chapters around it.
Lola – Since our last interview, you mentioned that you wanted to post a link to the interview on your Facebook page, but were concerned that the censors might punish you for it. Along the lines of historical reference, can you talk about what sorts of shifts you’ve seen politically and artistically in tolerance and censorship with regard to erotica? There seems to be a growing movement in England and America to reduce access to certain material. I know we, with our blog, have been constantly challenged by censorship. I get my social media zapped on the regular and certain companies that transfer money refuse to send us funds because the money is made through sexually explicit material. What have you seen over the years?
Stroll?
Molly – First about censorship: Honestly, it’s been such a long time since I’ve written or actively promoted myself that I don’t have any specifics, but friends who are still writing are always dealing with it, and though I know stuff is always being challenged on Amazon, I’m sorry that I really don’t have any insights to share. I posted the link on my Molly Weatherfield page, which Facebook said it was going to take down. But they haven’t yet, so I’m totally confused. But I didn’t paste a link from my Pam Rosenthal page because I use it to connect to old friends and extended family, and I don’t want them to shut that down, so I’m more circumspect about erotic posts there.
As for shifts in standards, a few wildly unrelated points:
- I’m guessing that these days there’s a lot of really intense stuff out there, of a sensibility to appeal to readers of a different generation than mine. I’m told that my teenage granddaughters read stuff that’s crazy explicit (not my stuff, but who could blame them?). But I’m shy to pry too deeply, so I don’t know much.
- I’ve always objected to any pornography that tries to locate kinky sensibility in childhood trauma; it seems to me that when you do that you delegitimize freedom of choice and imagination by pretending to be on the side of the “victims” while at the same time scapegoating some nasty “victimizers” by blaming them for your own fantasy life. To the extent that Fifty Shades was coherent, it seems to me that it played that nasty trauma card while going all swoony over private jets and diamond bracelets — but since I found the book a dreary, disorganized read and wound up skipping long passages, who knows what she was getting at?
- What most troubles me right now is a kind of eroticizing of totally illegitimate power, as described in this powerful, smart, and scary essay: https://slowcivilwar.substack.com/p/thats-bait. If there’s anything I’ve tried to be clear and consistent about in these interviews it’s that I always situate my fantasies within a framework of total consensuality and freedom to say no. I really hate erotic fantasy that’s in any way based on coercion, and my imagination tends to shrivel up in horror when I don’t feel safe; which I don’t, these days — less as an erotic writer than as an ordinary American who cherishes democracy and the rule of law.
Lola – Lightning round of questions: Favorite erotica author? Favorite book (of any genre)? Favorite poet? Favorite movie? Favorite porn star? Favorite play of Shakespeare’s? Favorite sex toy? Favorite age (meaning, did you love your 20’s, 30’s, 80’s the most) and why?
Molly – Pauline Réage, who wrote Story of O, has got to be at the top of the list. Erotic authors I’ve admired over the years are Michelle Tea, Aaron Travis, Thomas Roche. I’ve mentioned Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty books, but I need to add that the direct inspiration for the association comes from the opening chapter of Rice’s book Exit to Eden. Actually, I’ve been reading more erotic poetry than fiction lately. Natalie Diaz’s book, Postcolonial Love Poem, has some really hot writing in it and won the 2021 Pulitzer Prize for Poetry; and you should run-not-walk to buy The Poetry of Sex, edited by Sophie Hannah.
I don’t have a favorite porn film, but the most smoking hot movie I’ve ever seen is Ang Lee’s Lust, Caution, starring the sexiest film actor I’ve ever seen, Tony Leung.
All-time favorite pieces of writing: Grace Paley’s short story, “Friends”; The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (imo the great American novel); and Proust’s epic In Search of Lost Time, which is kind of my basic spiritual discipline.
Favorite play of Shakespeare? When I was young it was Much Ado About Nothing, clearly the first romcom. Now it’s absolutely King Lear, particularly in this version: https://www.ntathome.com/king-lear/videos/king-lear-trailer
No favorite sex toy, just some simple basics.
As for sexual decades: it was pretty great when I was writing Carrie in my 40s, but as we approach 80, there’s a new kind of beauty to it, for which we are profoundly grateful.
Lola – I don’t know if you have kids or grandkids, but, if you do, do you have any regrets about writing erotica since they will probably eventually be reading your work? Do you ever look back and think, “That was fun to write, but, OMG! I should have never published that!”?
Molly – Our very smart son, a literature professor, has managed to be entirely circumspect about my erotica for the last 30 or so years. I have no idea whether he’s read them or not, which is just fine by me. And I’m guessing that his two astonishingly literate daughters will be pretty much the same.
Still, I do sometimes have second thoughts about my books — again, because they’re still out there, in a world where cruelty has been instrumentalized and eroticized. So sometimes I have to pick up one or the other of them and reassure myself that that’s not what I was doing — far from.
Lola – Last question. Not sure if you have had a chance to read or listen to any of HH’s writings about me/us, but if you have, any thoughts?
Molly – Only a few sentences, so I can’t comment. But I love the idea of you guys sharing an erotic and a creative life as a single enterprise. Way to go and wishing you all the best.
Lola – Thank you so much! This has been a rare treat!!!
Molly – Thanks to you as well. I’ve been kind of grieving the fact that I’m not writing any more. But your smart, engaging questions have helped me sum things up and to own the astonishing experience of writing these books.
Marsupial Position
After the first Cum Cube companion had left, Lola heard the special knock at the door. It was still ten minutes before her next appointment. Lo opened the door cautiously. It was Meri.
MILF Meri desperate at the bar for some real cock
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry,” Meri replied, “I couldn’t stay away.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Like you’re one to talk,” replied Meri, dismissive of Lo’s insults.
“HH calls me that all the time. I take it as a compliment. Like, ‘You’re incredible! You’re amazing! You have the sexual powers of a goddess.’ You know?”
“Oh, so you think you’re paying me a compliment?”
“It all depends on how you take it.”
“How did you take it?”
“Take what”
“That guy’s cock. That’s what.”
“Fast and deep, front and back.”
“I figured. I could hear you cumming from across the street.”
“You could?”
“Of course!”
“And now you want some?”
“Are you going to deny me?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Actually, after her first session, which was so much more than she could have imagined, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle any more and was glad for the reinforcements.
“When’s your next appointment?”
Lo looked at her watch. “He should be here any minute now.”
“I gotta get out of these clothes then.”
“Yes, hurry,” said Lo, helping Meri out of her winter attire.
Soon Meri was in nothing but a white bra, her white nylons, and her red pumps.
“There’s one rule you have to keep.”
“What’s that?”
“You have to remain bent over, facing this wall. The idea is that there is a certain level of anonymity. They can’t see you and you can’t see them.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“But I though you vetted them on-line?”
“We were still anonymous there. They are afraid that if I know who they are, I could blackmail them.”
“Blackmail?”
“Yeah, because of their wives and families and such.”
“Oh, right.”
“And I, well, you know, I just like anonymous fucks anyhow.”
“Oh, I know!”
There was a knock at the door using the secret code.
Lo released the latch and the next patron of the arts entered the sacred space. He was confronted with not one round, beautiful rump ready to be mounted, but two. One naked, used, and welcoming, and one, larger than the first, squeezed into the tight-fitting nylons.
Mr. Next Up came in and didn’t say anything. He just ran his hand over both rears that were confronting him. He gave Lo’s a little smack and then pulled Meri’s tights down around her knees. He began fondling both of them – Lo with his right hand and Meri with his left. He then got on his knees behind Lo and began licking her ass, perineum, and pussy as he continued to fondle Meri, inserting a finger into her pussy and then his thumb into her ass.
Both Lo and Meri were now grinding on him – Lo on his tongue and Meri and his digits.
“Fuck me,” said Lo.
“Fuck me!” insisted Meri.
The girls could hear him unbuckle his pants and then heard him let his pants drop to the floor. He fumbled with a condom and then he was up against Lo’s rear with his hips. Lo felt his huge heft – not of his cock, but of his stomach – flop down on her lower back. He was slapping up against her with his hips.
“Hey, slow down,” said Lo. “Are you even in?” she asked, moving her right hand behind her, under his giant beer belly, to grab his pecker and point it in the right direction.
When she finally got ahold of it, she was like, “Wait, is this it?”
“I, I, I’m having trouble with the condom,” a deep voice replied.
“Fine, forget the condom,” said Lo.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Lo saw a tiny piece of rubber land on the floor by her feet. It reminded her of a finger cot she once used in a science class.
She reached behind her again and felt a tiny, protruding, almost pimple-like bump.
“Is this you?” she asked.
“Yes,” came the shameful response.
“Try again,” said Lo, pulling the nub toward her.
His hips again slapped up against Lo’s ass. Lo shrugged her shoulders. She couldn’t feel anything. Especially not after her first romp. But she wasn’t going to let on. She moaned and groaned, oohed and aaahed like she was being fucked by King Dong. Lo’s cum-cooing turned on Meri and Meri moved her right hand under Lo to feel the tips of Lo’s tits as they lilted forward and back, swaying heavily under her as Lo was bent at a right angle, perpendicular to the wall that supported her.
“My turn,” insisted Meri.
They guy pulled “out” of Lo, even though Lo didn’t think he had even penetrated her, and followed suit with Meri. Meri looked at Lo and Lo made a hand gesture with her thumb and index finger indicating that this guy was no more than an inch at most!
Beer Belly and Meri
Meri’s eyes rolled and then she put on the act. “Oh yeah. That’s it. Fuck me! Fuck me like the whore I am,” and so on. She was nearly laughing and getting Lo to giggle as she hammed it up.
“Are you a bad girl?” asked the panting voice from behind her.
“Yes, so bad.”
“How bad are you?”
“I’m a dirty slut.”
“Do you have kids?” he asked.
“Yes, three sons,” she said.
“I can tell. Your pussy is much looser than Lo’s.”
“Oh, but you fill it up so good,” she said – insulted by his comment, but still feeling superior since she knew that even if she was tight as a virgin, he still wouldn’t feel her due to his microscopic appendage, nor would she feel him.
“I bet you say that to your sons,” he said.
“Sometimes,” replied Meri, playing along, but also, truthfully with regard to her youngest.
“Yeah? Are you a dirty whore at home?”
“I’m a dirty whore everywhere I go.”
“Tell me about it,” he said.
Lo, at this point, was growing tired with being mere window dressing, or window undressing, however the case may be, even though there were no windows and Lo was already undressed.
She rolled onto her back and then slid underneath Meri’s drooping and swaying tits until Lo was straddled by Meri’s knees. Mr. Small was smacking away at Meri’s backside without penetrating or pleasuring any part of her pubic area. Now Lo’s little flower spread just below Meri’s larger petals, allowing for the choice of four portals to pleasure instead of just two, but none of which were within reach of the man’s petite probe.
Meri’s nipples fell to Lo’s open mouth and Lo licked, sucked, and bit gently on them. Meri flaunted her large, full breasts before Lo’s face, taunting her with her much larger and fuller tits, though, unlike Lo’s perky breasts, Meri’s drooped and sagged. Lo enjoyed Meri’s matronly mammary offering, but then slid up further in order to kiss Meri’s open mouth as Lo wrapped her legs around Meri’s hips and her arms over her shoulders and held on like a marsupial.
Meri looked down at Lo’s face and laughed.
“I can’t feel him,” she whispered and Lo laughed too.
“Oooh, yeah,” said Lo, mockingly.
“Ahh, fuck me,” said Meri in the same jocular tone.
The two of them giggled as the man furiously flapped his hips forward and back like a large walrus trying to slide headlong on the sand.
“Oh, you’re so much better and bigger than my husband,” said Meri over her shoulder.
“Yeah?” asked the guy. “Tell me about him.”
“He’s so small, I never feel him. I haven’t had an orgasm with him in ages! That’s why I whore around town like this,” she said, giggling in Lo’s ear.
Lo lapped it up and held onto her older, sexy, voluptuous MILF mentor with joy and delight, squirting and dribbling over her lower lips.
“Never brought you to an orgasm?”
“I didn’t say never,” Meri replied to his question. “But so long ago that I can’t remember it.”
“That’s horrible,” he said, “why not?”
“He’s an enormous man with a small cock and as a result of all his bodily girth and lack of girth where it really matters, he can’t even get close enough to me to enter my pussy. Every time we have sex, I end up jerking him off with just my index finger and thumb.”
Suddenly, the slapping of fat on ass stopped. Before either Lo or Meri knew what was happening, the man had pulled up his pants and left the Cum Cube.
Lo looked at Meri, puzzled.
“Why’d he go?” she asked.
“That was Scott,” cackled Meri, squealing with delight, “my husband!”
“Nooooooooooooo!” replied Lo, shocked.
“Yes!”
“How do you know?”
“I know how my husband fucks. I know the wheezing sound he makes when he’s overexerted himself. I know the feeling of that tub of lard that flops over his beltline and lands on my lower back before he makes his pathetic attempt to fuck my pussy. I know how small his dick is – it’s unusually small and almost uniquely so – and how he cannot, no matter how he tries, get it in the hole. He’s like a horny Chihuahua trying to mount a Great Dane! And I definitely know that brand of condoms – ‘My Size’ – that he has to import from England.” She pointed at the condom on the floor and laughed at its pathetic diameter.
“How do you think he. . . I mean, how did he? I was so careful about who I. . .” Lo didn’t have the words, she was so shocked.
Meri shrugged her shoulders and said, “He has probably been tracking my internet usage.”
“No!”
“Yeah,” she assured, “he’s been suspicious of my every move ever since our failed attempt to throw him off my scent. Your little seduction of my husband (and my three sons) seems to have backfired. I figured he was up to something. But now I know for sure. He must have gotten some spyware and downloaded it onto my computer and phone. He probably knows every pornographic website I click on, my every email and chat message, my every phone call.”
Lo looked dismayed.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“What is there to do?” replied Meri, shrugging her shoulders. “Go home and face the consequences.”
Just then, there was a loud knock at the door of the Cum Cube. It was not the secret code knock. Just an insistent three bangs on the door. Lo and Meri were startled.
“Just a minute!” Lo chimed, trying to find something to put on.
Lo was wearing just her coat. Meri, too, put hers on as Lo opened the door. It was the police.
“What’s going on?” asked Lo, surprised.
“Shut down.”
“What?!”
“You have to shut it down.”
“I have permission from the mayor.”
“This is on orders of the mayor.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Apparently, the press got word of this do-gooder operation of yours and a lot of people are upset about it.”
“Upset?”
“Protesting City Hall.”
“But why?”
The officer shrugged his shoulders and said, “All I know is I got to shut this operation down.”
Lola and Meri were escorted out of the Cum Cube by the men in blue, leaving behind all the paraphernalia that Lo had so meticulously arranged inside her little sex oasis: the Match, Cinder & Spark books, the magazines, the posters.
After the shutdown, the cube didn’t just go away, it was repurposed as a municipal “lactation station,” but in reality, people used it as a masturbation station. In fact, one handsome crew of six guys sent Lo one of her favorite tribute shots – all six gay or bi men in a circle jerk over her glossy image on the cover of a magazine!
Cum Cube cumtribute pic
Stiff Competition
Lola didn’t know if she was in trouble, but she was on her way to meet the director of the sperm bank. She walked down the long hallway, lined with the framed color posters of David Hamilton’s work, and at the end of the hallway she knocked. “Come in,” she heard a man’s voice say from behind the door.
Art by David Hamilton
Art of making art by David Hamilton
Art by David Hamilton
We shall save for later what transpired behind the director’s closed door after Lola entered it, but for now, let us pick our story up when Lola arrived at the clinic for a third appointment with Terence.
They met in the parking lot, as usual, and Lola was wearing her long white coat, but this time she had a surprise for Terence under it. Or rather, she had nothing to surprise Terence with under her coat.
Inside the clinic the receptionist again directed them to room #3. Upon entering, it was Lola who was surprised, for on the walls, in place of the framed posters of Lola’s cream pies, were framed posters of Ellie, the night-shift receptionist who had helped Terence by coaxing his cum out of him (before Lola fulfilled that job) and by reading to him from Match, Cinder & Spark. Apparently, she found out about the Lola poster substitute and that Terence was “two-timing” her with Lo during the day. She took liberties and removed Lo’s framed photos, replacing them with her own.
Ellie cumcovered
One poster was a black-and-white of Ellie, nude, spread eagle with cum covering her hairy pussy. The other was of her on her knees taking one cock in her mouth and two cocks on either side of her as she stroked them off. You couldn’t see her face in either of those posters, but, just to make sure there was no mistake, there was a framed photo of Ellie in a salmon colored outfit of shorts and an oversized blouse wearing glasses and smiling or almost laughing.
Ellie knows how to please three guys at once
Lola thought, “It’s on.”
“Whoa!” said Terence upon seeing the framed photos.
Ellen Mowbray
“You know her?”
“Um, yeah. She’s the one who used to help me out. She works the evening shift.”
Lola began to walk out of the room.
“Hey! Where are you going?” asked Terence, confused.
“To request another room.”
“Why?”
“I find it rude.”
“Rude?”
“Desperate.”
“Desperate?”
“Thirsty.”
“Thirsty?”
“Is there an echo in here? Look, she’s clearly still salty about what happened with Steve.”
“Steve?”
“Her ex-boyfriend.”
“What happened?”
“Ah, you can read all about it on the blog. She’s just being petty.”
“Maybe she wanted you to see it. Maybe it’s for your pleasure?”
“You like?”
“Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
“I do.”
“Fine,” said Lo. “Pull out your pud.” She was very matter-of-fact. No seduction, no sensuality, no affection.
Terence, who had been looking forward to this for days, was eager to comply.
Lo then opened her overcoat to reveal she was wearing absolutely nothing under it!
“Ellie ever help you like this?” she asked.
“No,” he said.
Lo put on the latex gloves, lubricated, reached down between his legs and began stroking him. She leaned forward so that her breasts were dangling tantalizingly in front of his face. She exaggerated her hand motion so that her heavy breasts wobbled and banged up against one-another. He couldn’t take his eyes off her heaving mounds. Lo slowly slid her hand down below the shaft of his cock to his large balls. She massaged them and fondled them, gently playing with them with her fingertips. He clearly liked it. Lo didn’t speak this time. She just watched his facial expressions. Her focus went from his face to his crotch and back again. And again.
She then surreptitiously slid her index finger down below his balls to his perineum. She used a feather-light touch on it for a while and then cautiously, furtively slid her index finger further south to his anus.
“Are you a top or a bottom when you’re with men?” she asked.
“Switch,” he said in a tense whisper.
“Stand up,” she commanded.
He got up out of the chair.
“Turn around,” she ordered.
He complied.
“Bend over,” she said, “and let’s have a full rectal exam.”
He bent over. She inserted one, then two, then three fingers of her right hand as her left hand reached around and stroked his cock. He was looking up at the large poster of Ellie on the wall. Lola was too. Lo continued her erotic massage, but it wasn’t long before he said, “The cup! The cup!”
Lo passed him the specimen cup and stroked him as he held the jar in front of his cock and filled it with more of his donation than he ever had before. His knees buckled and his entire body went tense and spasmed. He could hardly stand. He let out multiple calls of Lola’s name. Then he collapsed back in the chair, his cock still twitching.
He passed the collection cup to Lo who screwed on the lid tightly.
Lo smiled at him as she stood before his depleted body. The contrast between her tall, strong, lusty, flush and full body standing naked over his weak and limp body couldn’t have been more pronounced. She removed her gloves and threw them in the special trash bin for contaminated waste.
After he regained some of his vigor, she said, “Now you stand up and let me have the chair.”
He complied.
Lo sat in the chair, put her feet up on it, spreading her legs, and she began making small circular motions over her clit with her right hand. He watched her intently. Her movements increased in speed and intensity until she was now rubbing up-and-down in small, rapid strokes. This technique got more intense still until she was patting and then slapping her wet pussy. She progressed to inserting one and then two fingers deep in her pussy. She fingered herself for about a minute until SPLOOSH! She squirted straight ahead, sprinkling Terence with her holy water. It was a long, strong, and voluminous stream that soaked him and his clothes. He didn’t seem to mind.
Ellie leaving work after a hard day
Ellie getting off after a hard day at the masturbatorium
Ellie third from right
Digital Inspiration
It appears that word got out about Lola’s “immoral support” of Ted, the “known donor” for our friends Gina and Cam. You see, a while back Lo “encouraged” Ted’s selfless sperm donation. I’m pleased to say that the process eventually proved successful. Gina and Cam are now the proud parents of a baby boy!
They are so proud that they have told a wide circle of friends and acquaintances all about the method by which they got pregnant, including Lo’s special role in it. One morning, out of the blue, as Lo was scrolling through her long list of long dongs, micro penises, clits and tits to get herself off, she got a message from a stranger. That’s not too uncommon, but this stranger knew our friends Gina and Cam and he had an unusual request.
His name was Terence and he was a man in his mid-thirties. Like most of Cam and Gina’s friends, he wasn’t straight, but he wasn’t out as gay either. He, like Lola, identified as “queer.” But he wasn’t just queer, he had a downright perverted side to him. There were a lot of things that he enjoyed doing to get himself off, but I’ll let those unfold as we get to them. At this point, the one kink that he revealed to Lo was pertinent to the ask he had of her.
“I go to the sperm bank regularly to make a donation,” he said.
That’s quaint, thought Lo, as first. A good Samaritan who, like a blood donor, gives of himself for others. Not quite. It turns out he likes to go there in order to wank in a public setting. He likes the thought that the receptionist knows that he is jerking off in the room next to her.
This revelation really turned Lo on. She had never thought of that possibility before. Whenever she had thought of a sperm bank, which, given Lo’s predisposition for naughty imaginings she had thought of on occasion, she only thought of guys going in there embarrassed, a little humiliated, and bashful. She hadn’t entertained the idea of a quasi-exhibitionist being turned on by the thought of everyone knowing from the outset what his particular purpose for visiting the clinic is and that, when done, they all know for certain what he had just accomplished.
She was intrigued, to say the least, and she carried on a lengthy correspondence with him. He told her that he had been doing this on a regular basis at the same collection clinic for months now. He also mentioned that – by design or happy coincidence – all the nurses at this clinic are very attractive and that he had built a special rapport with one of them named Ellie.
He told Lo how Ellie always works the closing shift. For convenience, the collection clinic is open from 8:00 a.m. to 9:30 p.m. They found that they get more people willing to donate after work hours. She is the only staff on site, except for the security guard, after five. He had made it a regular habit to donate when she’s working and she has taken some liberties with the rules. It started out that he noticed her flirting with him. Then, one week, he found a photo of her on the top of the pile of magazines. Each week the photo she placed there got a little bit more risqué. One week, when he exited the collection station room, he apologized to her and said, “I made a little mess. I missed the target and spilled some semen on your, I mean, the photo in there.”
She gave him a knowing look. He imagined, but couldn’t confirm, that she went into the room after and got the cum-covered glossy photo of herself and did something with it. The next week he found she had left a nude photo of herself. He made sure to make a mess of that too and apologize again.
Within the month, she was in the collection room with him, jerking him off. She began by merely stroking him. But then it progressed to her stroking him and reading passages from books and blogs. At one point, she read to him from Match, Cinder & Spark. She was already familiar with Lola and me because we had written about her in the post, “Triangles of Sadness.” After she broke up with Steven, she actually became infatuated with Lola, even though Lola was the cause of her breakup.
Ellie & Steve before the breakup
It was a small world because she also read the story about Lola: “ICI – Home Insemination with a Known Donor.” Terence realized that this Lola Down was the same person that his friends Cam and Gina had told him about. Now he had her email address (through the blog) and he reached out to her. Having learned about Lo’s personality, he wisely included some sexy selfies.
Terence expressed his kinky wish to Lo. He knew that this donation clinic allowed for wives or significant others to accompany the donor in order to help with the donation process. He wanted Lola to pose as his girlfriend for that purpose. And, he wanted to do it during the day shift when his special nurse wouldn’t be there and so the nurses who didn’t know him would now be aware of exactly what he and Lola were up to in that room. It was an extension and variation on his fundamental kink which was simply jerking off in a room merely a few feet from the nurse who knows what he’s doing and then seeing her face afterwards.
Perhaps unremarkably, the exotic and extravagant nature of this kink turned Lo on. She spent many nights whispering in my ear, asking me what I thought it would be like for her to do this for Terence because, you see, Terence had just donated and so now needed to wait a couple of more weeks before he could schedule to make his deposit with Lo’s assistance.
Night-after-night she tantalized me by masturbating in the bed next to me, looking at Terence’s photos – which only got more explicit and, according to Lo, more hot, each day – and telling me the narrative of how she would like the session to go.
Lola looking at cumtributes.
Finally, the big day came – and so did Lo, many times that morning before she left our warm bed to meet Terence at the fertility clinic.
It was a bitterly cold day. We had been in the grip of a cold-snap for two or three days already. Lo had spent at least an hour prepping for her little lab-assistant role. She tried on at least five different outfits, asking me each time, “What do you think about this?” I loved each one, but as soon as I said so, she found it objectionable for some reason and started anew. Finally, she decided on a short skirt, black nylons under it, no panties. A black, mostly transparent, crepe blouse, no bra. Over that incredibly hot outfit, she draped her long, heavy white coat and put on her knee-high leather boots.
Lo getting dressed for “work”
I was desperate to have her. Every outfit change, she stripped back down to nothing at all and it was too much for me to bear. I was hard and suffering and she made me sit through the entire process. Not that I was complaining, but it was a form of sexual torture.
She left me high and dry with the instruction that under no circumstances, was I to masturbate. That is pretty much a standing rule, but she knew how hot she had made me for her and she knew she’d want all that pent-up energy for herself upon her return.
Just like that she was off! She was to meet Terence at the clinic. Separate cars. This was not a date. Lo was very clear about that. This was a clinical assistance project.
Whatever she wanted to call it, she arrived before Terence.
Lo waited in the car. She could see her breath as she waited. She touched herself between her legs, gently stroking over the nylons. She liked the feel of the nylon as it rubbed against her pussy and clit. She was getting wet. Her warm wetness and the dropping temperature in the car was stimulating her between her legs. She knew she wouldn’t be able to wait much longer. Either he had to arrive or she’d have to “go all the way” with herself.
She saw Terence walking in the parking lot. “Good,” she thought, “because any longer and I’d cum right here and who knows? Maybe I’d squirt and it would freeze!”
Lo practically leapt out of the car and met him.
“Hey,” she said, trying to play it cool.
“Hi.”
It was awkward, but only for a moment. Lola grabbed his hand. “We’re supposed to be a couple, right?”
“Right,” he said.
They walked together into the clinic. They stopped at the reception desk. Terence flashed a cordial but gregarious smile at the woman sitting behind counter. He introduced himself and said that he had an appointment for noon. The woman typed something into her computer and then smiled back.
“Yes, room three,” she said, looking at Lola who had opened her long white coat to reveal the transparent blouse underneath it. For a brief moment, Lola thought she had overplayed her hand. The receptionist typed something into her computer and then looked up at Terence and Lo. She said, “Ah yes, I see you have already entered the information about your service assistant.”
Lo tried to smile politely at the woman, but she felt as if “service assistant,” sounded too much like “service dog.” But then Lo’s mind went to that kinky area (which is about 99% of her mind) and she began to think what it would be like to have a “service dog” to service her in the manner that she was about to service Terence. Lo was already getting wet. Or, wetter, I should say.
The receptionist passed a collection jar to Terence and also passed him an individual sized, complementary miniature tube of special lube that would not contaminate the collection sample.
“Do you need instructions?” she asked as she handed the lube to Terence.
“No, I’ve been here before.”
The receptionist gave him a knowing look and then went back to her typing.
Terence casually led Lo down the white, sterile hallway and to room three. All along the hall were posters of Roy Stuart’s photos. Terence opened the door and let Lo in like a gentleman. In the little white room was a sink, a small white shelf next to it, a comfortable chair, a small TV screen with a CD player, some porno mags under the TV and more framed Roy Stuart posters on the walls. Lo also noticed a large, coffee table book by one of her favorite photographers, Sabrina Dacos.
Roy Stuart Photography
Roy Stuart “Glimpse”
Sabrina Dacos Selfie
Sabrina Dacos tits and shaved snatch
Lo looked around, taking it all in. She was even more excited now as she imagined all the men who had been in this room and what they were doing there. Sex, in all its permutations and manifestations, holds a perpetual allure for Lo.
One thing that Lo’s keen observation of the room and its objects didn’t see was a coat rack for her white overcoat.
“You sit down. Get comfortable,” she said to Terence. “I’m going to find a place to hang up my coat.”
She turned back around and went out to the receptionist.
“Excuse me,” she said as politely as she could, “but is there a place for me to hang my coat?”
The receptionist pointed her down a different hallway. “Just to your left,” she said.
Lo walked down that hallway and, to her surprise, she saw framed posters lining it with images by David Hamilton.
David Hamilton’s Laura
Art by David Hamilton
She saw a line of coat hangers along the far wall and she hung up her coat. Walking back towards the receptionist – the building was shaped like an ‘L,’ with the receptionist at the intersection of the two perpendicular wings – she said, “I didn’t know you had a children’s section.”
The receptionist looked up, blank-faced. She saw Lo’s prominent breasts, nearly naked, just under the loose-fitting sheer black blouse. She merely opened her mouth, making a little pout with her lips. Lo wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she took it as a compliment and walked past her proudly.
Lo breezed by a single man in the hallway who was also on his way to a different room. Lo made clear and unambiguous eye contact with him. However, his eyes quickly looked down and settled on Lo’s tits. Lo could understand the allure to both working there and going there as an exhibitionist like Terence. There was something exciting and stimulating for Lo knowing that the man she passed in the hall was either about to go jack off or had just finished. And it excited her for him to know that she was roaming the hallway in search of stimulating some eager altruist ready to selflessly give his essence to some needy couple. Lo walked briskly, keenly anticipating her part to play with Terence.
Terence was now sitting in the chair. Lo looked at him. He smiled at the sight of her in the blouse. Lo had expected he would be naked, or at least pantless by this point, but he was just sitting there, clothed as he was when Lo went down the hall. He also wore a wide grin on his face, staring at her tits and then her eyes and back to her tits.
“So,” said Lo, “how do you want to do this?”
“I guess, if you just unzip me, pull me out, lube me up, and I’ll take it from there,” he said.
Lo pulled out two sterile latex gloves from the box on the counter next to the Sabrina Dacos book. She put them on and then unbuttoned Terence’s pants, unzipped the fly, pulled them down around his ankles. He was already hard and bulging from under his tight white underwear.
Lo pulled down the underwear and his long, thick dick sprung out like a Jack-in-the-Box. Lo marveled at its size, shape, and apparent eagerness to donate.
“You like?” he asked.
“MmmmHmmmm,” she moaned. Her face was only inches away from the specimen and, had they been in another setting, she would have taken the meat in her mouth with relish. But she could not do that, lest the donation become contaminated and useless.
“Anything in particular that will help you?”
“Can you get naked?”
“No,” said Lo, as if offended. “This is not for pleasure. This is a selfless act of generosity to both science and humanity.”
What a load of malarkey! Did she actually believe that? No. It was part of the game.
“Then,” he said a bit disappointed, “can you at least stand close to me?”
In point of fact, she was actually standing right next to him. He sat. She leaned over and held his cock in her gloved hand. She was bouncing it on her fingers to see just how rigid, weighty, and stiff it was. Then she put a heaping dab of the lube in her palm. She slowly applied the lube to his shaft, deliberately stroking up-and-down, base-to-tip, a few times before setting to work in earnest. She began vigorously jerking him off.
“A little slower,” he requested politely.
She shifted into a lower gear.
“Like this?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“Your tits.”
“Say more.”
“I want to suck them and lick them. Those nipples under your blouse – God! They look amazing.”
She leaned in a little further so that the apex of her breasts were mere centimeters from his lips.
“How long does it typically take you to cum?” she asked.
“I masturbate a lot,” he said.
“That’s ok.”
“So it takes me nearly the full half-hour.”
The rooms were assigned by half-hour increments, but the staff preferred if donors were faster so they had proper time to clean up and disinfect each room when done.
When he said this, Lola took it as a personal challenge. How quickly could she get this compulsive masturbator to ejaculate?
“When’s the last time you came?” she asked.
“This morning.”
“What?! I thought they only allow you to donate once every two weeks because if you did it more often it lowers the sperm count.”
“Yeah, that’s a dumb rule, isn’t it?” he said, looking at Lo, their eyes and mouths very close. “I mean, they can’t monitor or control what happens at home.”
“What did you cum to this morning?” she asked.
“Thinking about you doing this.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“And, in your imagination as you were at home in bed jacking off, what did you think would happen?”
“Can I tell you the truth?”
“Yes, please!”
“I was jacking off in bed next to my sleeping wife.”
“Your wife?!” asked Lo, still stroking up-and-down, “You’re married?”
“Yes. You didn’t know that?” he said, looking directly at her now.
“No, I didn’t know anything about you except that you heard about me through Gina and Cam and what you’ve told me.”
“Are you upset?”
“No, not at all. Why should I be?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you think I’m a perverted, sleazy, creep.”
“Why would I think that? Because you’re married and go to a sperm bank to get off and you masturbate in bed next to your sleeping wife?”
“Well, uh, yeah. When you put it that way.”
“Don’t. Everyone has their kinks, their quirks, their turn-ons and offs.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“I mean, I know that, but you don’t think bad of me because of it?”
“Of course not. In fact, it turns me on that you were jerking off next to her.”
“It does?”
“Yes,” she said, adding pressure to her grip and speed to her stroke. “It will turn me on more if you told me what you were thinking about as you did it.” She brought it back to this because he was losing his hard-on with all the conversation.
“I was thinking that you’d get naked and let me feel your body, maybe let me suck your tits, and. . .”
“Now, now,” said Lo, putting a damper on his hopes, “that would be against the rules.”
In point of fact, there were no rules other than not contaminating the sample by coaxing it out either orally or vaginally. But no rules were in force to stop Lola from getting naked. She just liked enforcing arbitrary rules.
“Too bad,” he said.
“What do you think of that?” asked Lo, indicating the Roy Stuart poster in front of them.
Terence glanced up at the brunette in the frame and then looked deep into Lola’s eyes and simply said, “I wish it was you.”
That little comment put an idea in Lo’s head and she felt herself gushing from the thought of it.
She started moaning as if she were the one receiving the erotic massage and the auditory stimulation really got Terence going.
“Are you wet?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You like stroking me?”
“Mmmmm, so much.”
“You want to see me cum?”
She just bit down on her lower lip and this was enough to bring Terence to the brink.
“Quick! The specimen jar!”
Lo grabbed it as Terence took matters in his own hands and aimed right at the small target. Out came loads and loads of cum – more than Lo had ever seen before in one orgasm. If she was gushing just a moment ago, now she was a full-on leaky labiator.
“FUUUUUUCK!” cried out Terence, certainly loud enough for the receptionist to hear.
“That’s a boy,” encouraged Lo, dropping to her knees as if wanting desperately to be the receptacle for his deposit, as if worshiping his cock and potency, as if weak in her knees from the visual excitement.
When he was done, he cleaned up the bit he spilled or dribbled down his leg and then he pulled up his pants, zipped up, tucked in his shirt, and made himself generally presentable.
Lo and Terence emerged from room #3 and walked to the reception desk. Terence dropped off the collection container and the receptionist looked up without any expression on her face.
“All set,” said Terence.
“All set,” the receptionist replied with a polite smile.
Lo was holding Terence’s hand as if she was his girlfriend. She returned the polite smile to the receptionist and the two of them walked out into the freezing cold. Lo’s nipples became like diamond cutters immediately and she squeezed Terence’s hand and said, “You go on home. I forgot my coat!” She gave him a loving kiss, open-mouthed, and squeezed his hand before turning around and going back into the clinic.
Terence waited a bit in the parking lot, but when Lo didn’t come back out for a while, he figured he’d better drive away before he looked like he was stalking her, or someone else at the clinic. After all, his car was on, the windows were fogging up, and it was clear from the exhaust that he was just idling in the parking lot outside the front doors of the sperm donation site.
Send Lo your cumtribute.
Protected: Butterflies
Protected: Sister Sodomy
Protected: Passive, Loose, and Open
Deferred Desire
Jane and Andrew
Jane and Andrew had just taken their wedding vows. They celebrated with their friends and family. They were both in their forties when they finally tied the knot. After many failed relationships in the past for each of them, they were pleased to finally find each other. They prided themselves on the fact that the cornerstone of their relationship was honesty. They loved each other, they admired each other, and they desired each other.
But in the hotel on the night of their wedding, they discovered something about each other neither of them expected.
Andrew was eager to get Jane out of her white gown and get into her wet pussy. Jane, you see, had been deferring the consummation of their love saying that, though not religious, she wished to wait until they were married before engaging in coitus. Now that the fateful night had come, Andrew’s desire for his bride had reached its pinnacle.
He slowly unzipped the back of the dress and helped Jane out of it with care. She wore a white satin bra, white panties, and lacey white thigh-high nylon stockings. Nearly naked, she sat on the couch and pulled Andrew towards her. He had already removed his tuxedo jacket, tie, and shirt. As he stood in front of Jane, he removed his t-shirt. She had already seen him topless before, but the smoothness of his chest, which lacked any hair, struck her as unusually feminine. But then she unbuttoned the button on his tuxedo slacks and unzipped the fly, pulling the pants down past his pelvis. She was shocked at what she saw!
Instead of boxers or tighty-whities, he was wearing a transparent, satin black thong! His cock was pressed up against the see-through material, barely contained by the tiny triangular fabric, stretching it to almost the breaking point.
“Oh wow!” she said as her face was inches away from the contained cock. She had never seen him nude before. “Are these yours?”
“Whose else would they be?”
“Mine,” she said.
He laughed and said, “No, I didn’t sneak into your panty drawer.”
“So you went to the store to buy these special?”
“These and a lot more like them.”
“I see.”
She slid the pants all the way down to his ankles, revealing a second surprise. He wasn’t wearing black socks, as she assumed. He was wearing sheer lacey black thigh-high nylon stockings, almost identical to hers. In their nylons, they were like yin and yang.
“Well, well, well,” she said, “what is this all about?”
“Do you like?” he asked her nervously.
“I do. Just about anything kinky gets me wet,” she said seductively.
He was thrilled. He had taken a real chance by dressing up like this under his wedding tux, but he had to know how she’d feel about his kinks. All was going to plan. He had suspected it would, but out of fear of rejection, ridicule, or even worse, indifference, he had not revealed this side of himself to her ever before.
“Shall you be Mistress’s little Sub-Boy?”
This question from her took him aback. He had not thought this far along in the chess game.
“I am Mistress’s little Sub,” he said, furtively, fearful of the wrong answer.
“Go fetch Mistress’s bag,” she said to him. He brought to her the large weekender bag she had in addition to her suitcase.
She reached in. He had no idea what was next. Out of the bag she pulled a paperback book – Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume IV: Sexy Shorts. It had a drawing of a woman in tight blue shorts, bent over on the cover.
“Mistress likes to read,” she said. “Make Mistress an ottoman so Mistress can put her feet up.”
He complied by getting on his knees on the floor and turning himself into a stool for her feet. She sat in the comfortable chair and read while he dutifully demeaned himself to her will. However, time went by and he began to wonder if any relief to the raging erection he had at the mere touch of her silken-clad feet was to come.
“Mistress,” he whimpered.
“Yes little Sub?”
“May I please smell your pussy?”
“Yes little Sub.”
She spread her legs and allowed him a good whiff of her cunt through her white satin panties.
“Mistress,” he asked again.
“Yes little Sub?”
“May I please kiss your ass?”
“Yes little Sub,” she said, turning over in her chair.
He kissed her ass.
“That is all,” she insisted, putting an end to his probing tongue. “Mistress wishes to recline on the couch,” she added. “Stand by me, little Sub, and allow me to amuse myself with your member while I continue reading my book.”
“Yes, Mistress,” replied Andrew, standing at attention, allowing himself to be used and fondled as plaything of her whim.
“Little Sub,” she said eventually.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Lick my clit.”
“Mistress?” he asked, taken aback by the request.
“You heard me. Get on your knees and lick my clit as I read. I have come to a particularly puissant passage and I wish to be stimulated orally.”
She spread her legs and allowed him to pull her panties to the side far enough for his mouth to make contact. All the while she kept reading her book.
He got down between his mistress’s legs and began to lick politely, respectfully.
“Fuck my cunt with your tongue, damn it! Make me cum. Now!” she demanded.
He licked, sucked, flicked, and fucked her orally as best he could.
“Yes, that’s it – make your mistress moan!”
She came, and her cunt drizzled its joyful juices on the white leather couch causing a puddle under her ass.
“Mistress?” he asked once he had emerged from her love-spot.
“Yes little Sub?” she asked breathily.
“Will we ever consummate our love?”
“Little Sub, you have that long protrusion in your panties and I think that as punishment for that, you shall never be able to use it.”
Andrew’s erection grew powerfully in his panties as he contemplated the thought of ever desiring his wife, never satisfying her, never releasing his pent-up phallic powers.
She got up to pee and while she did, Andrew grabbed the book that was lying open to the page Jane had been reading. It was a story called “Pound” and it had some very taboo imagery in it.
“What are you doing?” Jane demanded when she returned.
“Uh, um, reading Mistress.”
“Without permission?”
“I’m sorry, Mistress.”
She got on the couch across from him and used her feet to tease his cock as he read.
“Is this the story that brought you to an orgasm?” he asked.
“And if it is?” she replied superciliously.
“Well, then I suppose there are more kinks about you that I have yet to discover.”
“Isn’t that what love is all about – the slow reveal of each other’s depravity?”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“You would if you read more about H.H. and Lola.”
“Am I allowed to cum to her, or them?”
“Absolutely not!”
“But you are?” he asked.
“Mistress’s needs are not for you. Mistress keeps her cunt off limits. All her erotic experience is in the mind, in words, in the denial of the dissipation of your desire. I shall keep you around as my obedient canine. You shall obey your Mistress and never give in to the aching needs between your hind quarters. You shall ever remain in a state of perpetual penile priapism.”
Andrew could not have found a better match for his masochistic longings for a sadistic matriarch to marry.
ICI – Home Insemination with a Known Donor
Lo & HH
In this brave new world of ours nothing is straight. Time and space are curved, our DNA is a double helix, and people certainly are kinky! We have friends who are a married couple: Gina and Cam (shortened from Cammie). Gina is a lipstick lesbian, a femme. Or is she? I ask because Cam, who, when we met her identified as a woman, is now gender neutral and goes by “They, Them, Theirs.” She cut her long hair and now sports a pixie haircut with a little cow-lick in the front. She wears flannel often and does her best to flatten the curve of her breast.
To add to the gender complexity, in the past, Cam has revealed to Lo and me privately that Gina “hasn’t sworn off of dick and has left the door open to fucking guys in the future.” Despite how sunny of a spin Cam put on this revelation, it was expressed with overtones of disappointment or hope that one day she – I mean they – could or would be able to be provide that dick for Gina. But, like all else in this world, if that situation did come to pass, isn’t it inevitable that Gina would then express a yen for pussy? None of us can be everything for our partners.
Yet one more twist: Recently Gina and Cam announced their intent to become pregnant. In order to facilitate this occurrence, they informed us that they will use a “known donor” and that Cam will carry the baby. How and why they arrived at this decision, we did not ask. However, the other night they were over our house for dinner and, curious about all things related to sex and sexuality, Lo enthusiastically inquired about the schematics of this process.
“It’s not easy,” said Cam. “It requires careful monitoring of my cycle, precise observation and recognition of when I’m ovulating. Then I have to call up Ted, our donor, and see if he can clear his schedule.”
“Clear his schedule?” asked Lo.
“Yeah, for him to, uh, well, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”
Even though Lo is fluent in all things sex, this process was not one she ever had reason to study. She also is tenaciously curious.
“Ted has to, see, he’s the donor. He has to come over, so to speak. That is, he literally comes over our house to cum.”
“OH!” blurted out Lo, finally connecting the dots.
“Yeah, so, he needs to come over since there’s a small window of time. He does what he needs to do into a receptacle. While he’s busy bringing himself to a climax, Gina and I are in the bedroom. She works at getting me to climax in order to increase our chances at conception. It’s not scientifically proven that this actually aids in the process, but, what the hell, I enjoy it. In order to get me cumming as quickly as possible, she usually goes down on me. Then she sweeps in to collect the precious sample, places it in a fancy turkey baster, and bastes me from the inside.”
“But usually Ted takes more time to cum than Cam does,” added Gina.
I could see Lo’s machinations morphing in her imagination like quicksilver.
“Who is this Ted?”
“Oh, he’s a friend of ours from years back,” said Gina.
“How old is he?”
“About forty-five.”
“Forty-five?! Really?”
“What’s wrong with forty-five?” I asked, feeling a bit defensive and surprised by Lo’s shock.
“Nothing, dear,” she said, conciliatory. “I just mean, I thought they were going with someone their own age.”
“Why?” asked Cam. “Sperm is good even through a man’s eighties. He’s been tested and his sperm count is way high.”
“Oh, I know. I just thought. . .”
She didn’t say what she just thought.
“He’s a great guy,” said Cam. Gina smiled broadly in agreement.
“He’s actually the guy who introduced us.”
They went into a detailed backstory about how they met and the integral part Ted played in bringing them together.
“Is he gay or straight?” asked Lo, her gears turning.
Both of them giggled.
“What?” asked Lo defensively.
“Gender fluid,” said Gina.
Of course. It was a foolish question for Lo, of all people, to ask. So binary. Lo, who identifies as “queer,” should have known better.
By the way they giggled, Lo became suspicious. “Have either of you slept with him?”
More giggling. Both of them admitted to sleeping with him together.
“Why not skip the middleman, ur, the middle jar, and just have him inseminate you directly?” asked Lo.
“We slept with him years ago, when we were first dating. We’re married now,” said Cam, looking at Gina.
“And I think I’d get jealous if Cam conceived with him that way,” she admitted honestly.
“Also, he’s been dating a guy for like a year now and we don’t want to mess that up for him,” added Cam.
“Maybe I could help,” mused Lo, as if the idea just popped in her mind.
“How?” they both asked.
“Moral support,” said Lo.
“More like immoral support,” I muttered under my breath, knowing where Lo was going with this. No one heard me.
“I imagine it’s a bit awkward and maybe even difficult for Ted to cum on command all alone, jerking off into a cup.”
Gina and Cam had inquisitive looks on their faces as Lo explained her idea.
“He could use some help,” was all Lo said.
“Like you’d help him cum?” Gina asked, looking at me for my reaction.
“Where does he do it?”
“There,” said Gina, pointing to their spare bedroom.
“And what’s he got in there to help him out?”
They both shrugged their shoulders. “Maybe his phone? We never asked.”
“Oh my God!” said Lo, feigning shock, “Even the sperm banks offer cheap magazines.”
“So what would you do?” asked Gina.
“I’d offer a helping hand,” replied Lo.
Gina and Cam both looked at me. I shrugged my shoulders as if to say, “Whatever Lo wants, Lo gets.”
“I guess we could ask him,” said Cam.
“Yeah, ask him and see what he says. Show him this photo of me.”
Lo texted them both one of her sexy images. They looked at their phones. It was clear both of them wanted Lo’s helping hands on them, but no one said anything.
Lo’s Audition Photo