I’d always wanted my labia pierced. But until Master came along, I didn’t have the nerve. He was keen to know and understand my kinks and it wasn’t long before I told him about this one. The idea of wearing a chastity devise, that locked my labia together was something I’d dreamed of. A love lock if you will. That and a man who shared a desire to control my orgasms. It soon became clear he was that man.
Today, I am wearing his love lock. 2 large rings protrude from my labia and within the folds of my vulva, the clitoral hood is also pierced. A padlock secures the larger rings in place. The pressure on my clit is immense and I am on edge most of the time. I long for release, but equally I love the forced abstinence. I am forbidden to touch, but at every opportunity Master slips a finger through the gap between my pussy lips and teases. He only unlocks me when desires to use me. Thankfully that is often. He can’t get enough of his locked in love.
I was on my third coffee by the time he walked into the café. I saw him glance around the room as he joined the queue and smile as he spotted me. He turned towards the menu board and then gave his order to the barista. All the time I watched, admiring the cut of his jeans on his firm but trim backside, the style of his shirt and the silkiness of his hair. Picking his coffee up from the counter he walked over to me and I nodded to the armchair facing mine. He placed his cup on the table.
“Great to see you Sue” he said leaning down to lightly kiss my cheek. The aroma of his aftershave heightened my already aroused senses and I felt my cunt clench slightly. “I wasn’t sure you’d still be here, I’m late this morning”.
“I was a bit late myself” I lied.
“That’s lucky” he smiled, not just with his mouth, so that I caught a glimpse of his white teeth, but with his blue eyes too. They sparkled at me and creases formed at the edges. I grinned back. “I know I was a bit casual about arrangements, but I was really hoping you would be here”
“Well it’s our lucky day then” I said “and what’s more I have nowhere else to be”.
“Nor me, I’m all yours. Let’s finish our coffees and go have some fun”. I had every intention of holding him to his word.
“Let me get this straight, he dumped you on New Years Eve?” Jo’s eyes were wide with incredulity as she met mine. I raised my cocktail glass to my lips and took a sip before nodding. I grinned to show I wasn’t as upset as she might have expected.
“Yes, shortly after midnight. But by then I’d eaten the posh meal and drunk a bottle of champagne, all on him, so it isn’t all bad. I think I was cramping his style he wants to ‘play the field'”.
Jo shook her head and took a gulp of her own martini before looking round for the waiter. More was definitely needed.
“His loss” I added as the waiter approached and Jo ordered our refills. “He should have shown more interest in my own sexual preferences. I was happy to share, if only he had mentioned it” I laughed into my glass as a vision filled my head. “Anyway, I have already moved on. I’m off out with James tomorrow, and I’ve heard really good things about him.”
“Me too”, Jo’s eyes twinkled. “Well good luck Annie, and here’s to open minded men and plenty of sex in 2019”.
“Plus cocktails” I added as we raised our glasses and downed the last of our drinks just as the waiter returned. My thoughts drifted to tomorrow and the date with James. Knowing what he had in mind for us made be blush just a little, something not lost on Jo. She raised her eyebrows quizzically, and I prepared to divulge just one or two details.
This girly night was just what I had needed after the shit storm of New Year’s Eve!
The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #114? Start with the rules, come back January1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
If you want a job done…
*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!
The room inside Club Amour was dimly lit, so much so that it was difficult to see the faces of those within. Dotted around the room, there was comfortable seating on which people sat drinking and chatting.
He led her to one corner and a couple sipping champagne under a red lamp. He introduced them as Guy and Michelle and nodded for her to sit. Lowering herself onto the sofa next to Michelle she carefully crossed her legs. Immediately a waiter arrived with glasses and more champagne.
David sat down beside her and she took the glass he offered. The nerves she had felt while waiting outside were building again and she took a large gulp of the fizzy liquid. “Don’t be nervous darling, we will take good care of you” he smiled. Resting his hand on her knee, he nodded for her to uncross her legs. Leaning forward she placed the glass on the table and slowly unbuttoned, then removed her coat.
“That’s right, time to get comfortable” David smiled and Guy nodded. Michelle stood and slipped her shift dress over her head. She too was naked. “Now, let’s have a drink before the fun begins.
As she looked around the room, sipping the cool champagne her nerves began to dissipate. Now used to the lighting she could see that every other woman present was naked. The men dressed in evening wear. He was right, she would be fine here with them.
The 2018 Smut Marathon has ended. 85 writers began their smutty journey in January and last weekend the winner, Exhibit A was crowned. The final 7 stories were, not surprisingly, longer than in previous rounds. With 2250 words to play with there was much more room for the story as well as sex and erotica. Strange then, that not everyone who commented found all the stories as smutty as they might be. This has been a theme throughout the competition and a source of discussion on Twitter. Since Smut Marathon 2019 starts in January and I am considering entering again, I decided to explore this in more detail.
What is smut?
The Cambridge online dictionary definition demonstrates that smut is not always seen as a good thing. A noun that describes magazines, books, pictures, films or jokes that offend some people because they relate to sex. Indeed, the word comes from the German ‘schmutzen’ and dates back to the 17th century – defile, corrupt or make obscene.
Fast forward to the 21st century and while some will still be offended by smut, some of us are actually looking for it. The top definition in the Urban Dictionary is: When two or more characters (fictional or non fictional) has a sexual encounter with each other. It could be all sex with little story plot, or a well thought out story with occasional sex scenes.
Of course, there doesn’t even need to be two people in the story. For two rounds of the Smut Marathon we wrote about sex toys and in one of those, from the object’s point of view.
What do readers look for?
In the comments section for the final round, one of the judges expressed of the winner’s story “Is it smut”. Where as Marie found it: “Brilliant, sexy, hot. I thought that there was smut, but like Charlie; not my thing. Perhaps this is where the issue lies. Smut is something personal.
I put a call out on Twitter to ask how that community defines smut. There were some interesting responses. Floss sets the scene:
“For me Smut can be sexy, explicit, sensual, downright dirty or subtlety seductive, all at once or one at a time works for me. But for it to be Smut it needs to make my mind wander to sexy places. To make me feel like I want some of what had been described. Sometimes I read erotica or smut & I just see no words or imagery or suggestion that says this is meant to woo me into being aroused & excited, either in mind or body. Even if the writing is excellent, if I’m not giddy with tingles then it just didn’t hit my Smut button”
Overt vs Subtle
For Marsha Adams “erotica is anything inspiring sexy thoughts and smut explicitly describes those thoughts.” Similarly Brigit Delaney wrote “I tend to be subtle in my sex scenes, which didn’t go over well. And when I tried to be smuttier, I edited out plot to make room for it and then wasn’t as happy with my stories”.
One of Vida Bailey’s stories was reviewed badly because ‘nothing happened’, for her “erotica doesn’t have to have lots of explicit action, I’d rather read a good story that awoke ideas and feelings in me”.
When you don’t have many words to play with, it isn’t always easy to build a plot and build up to a smutty scene. Plus, not everyone wants their smut to be too subtle. As Chintz Curtain says “something that allows my brain to create a really good, clear picture of said smut. The words don’t necessarily have to be explicit but the sexual intention needs to be clear. I struggle with it being messed with too much. It’s sex. So let it be sex”.
Charlton Todd responded: “For me, smut is evocative. It should make me feel like I’m there physically as well as emotionally. It should be both intelligent and visceral. And personally, I don’t think it’s enough to have just one. You need to have both. I want to feel like I’m transported into the scene, and am an active part of it more than a fly on the wall”
Writing for a competition
This makes writing for a competition challenging. Because what makes one person tingle, leaves another cold. What transports one into a scene drives another out of the window. As the competition progressed, the writers grew to know the audience they were writing for. As Daz wrote:
“it makes me wonder if the question isn’t so much about what we, as individuals, think of as smut; but more, how you see it (writing for yourself) or your target readers see it (getting the votes).” Also ” It depends why people read erotica; some enjoy the aesthetic(?), some just want to get off on it. Ultimately it’s about why you write…
I set out to try to understand a bit more about smut and what it means and have got the answer I expected. It means completely different things to different people. Some prefer their smut subtle, as part of a developing underplayed story. Others need to see erotic and sexy words on the page before it means anything. Even then, if it isn’t your kink the words may leave you cold.
Maybe it isn’t what you say but how you say it. Which suggests that the most important part of story telling is the edit. Allowing yourself time not just to write, but to read and alter the words. When writing for a competition remember this isn’t a blog post, an erotic story for a meme. That people will judge differently. But, in my opinion, better that we are debating that is and isn’t erotic rather than semi colon placing or the length of sentences. But grammar is another topic and not one I am going to get into.
Thank you to my fellow writers, bloggers and twitter friends for your inspiration and contribution. The final word goes to Bear’s cub who sent me this:
Time to write more fiction, as I have recently been saying. For the first time, I am submitting this to the Friday Flash Meme. The little story below is 200 words.
The taxi driver dropped her off and pointed across the road. There was little traffic, so she crossed quickly and walked into the grand square. The place was deserted, the sound of her heels bounced off the tall buildings and echoed in her ears. Unsure she was in the right place, she looked around and then up at the pink sign. Amour – The club. His instruction had been to wait here.
So she stopped beneath the sign and waited, shivering a little. The light coat might have felt warmer had she not been naked underneath, though it wasn’t cold; nerves perhaps. Looking across the square her face flushed pink as she saw him appear at one of the windows. He waved and then disappeared.
She assumed he was on his way down to meet her. Her nipples hardened against the lining of her coat in anticipation. Suddenly he was there, his arms around her, mouth on hers. Her pussy throbbed as he slid a hand inside the fold of her coat. He briefly rested it on her mound.
“Good girl” he smiled, and slipped his arm around her shoulders as they walked together through the door beneath the sign.
Today the round 7Smut Marathon results were published. We had been out for the day, but as I was the passenger rather than driver, I was able to take a look at the comments and then results. I was pleased to see that my favourite story came top and that others I enjoyed did well. The quality in this round was amazing and voting especially difficult.
In round 6, I was eliminated from the competition, something of a relief. On 15th July, when the results were published I was feeling rather unwell. At that time I didn’t know what was wrong, but for a few days I had been tired and lacked energy. Worse my bladder had developed a mind of its own. When I needed to pee, I really did.
I was also in the middle of packing up my house to move. Months, if not years of preparation to leave my marital home and move in with Master were coming to a conclusion. The Smut Marathon was really the least of my priorities. In the run up to the deadline, I wasn’t sure I would even be able to write. But in the final few days I wrote something.
In hindsight it is clear that just dumping my thoughts into a document and editing for word count only is not going to be enough. But to be honest, I felt the need to send something, anything. It felt wrong not to submit an entry when others had been eliminated in the previous round. So time for a confession. Until today, I have not looked at my entry, I haven’t read anyone else’s. I didn’t vote and I didn’t comment. when the results were published, I responded to Marie’s email telling me I had been eliminated. But I didn’t look at the scoring or anything else.
I feel embarrassed to admit this today. But in mid July I had no energy for a writing competition. I had a urinary infection, was about to move house and like most of the rest of us in the northern hemisphere was existing in a heat wave.
Today I have read comments on my entry – #14 Slave’s deepest fantasy. People were in the main kind but clear. My punctuation left something to be desired, I used the same or similar words in close proximity (a pet hate) so clearly I hadn’t edited properly. What is more, mention of the prompt was at best transient. I could have done better.
What I have taken from the competition
Fiction is something I have to work at. It doesn’t come naturally to me, even adapting my own life experiences feels like hard work. I struggle to be creative, to think outside the box. I am in awe of my fellow participants who easily write about crime, vampires and science fiction. In part, this might be due to the fact I don’t read masses of erotic fiction and when I do, it is reasonably mainstream. But I know my writing has improved during the time I was part of the Smut Marathon. I have been encouraged by the wonderful feedback and help from Marie. But also the comments left by the judges and those voting.
My favourite round was 5 – I wrote a story from the perspective of a sex toy. I will post the story on my blog in the next few days since I am proud of it. Somehow I found my creative juices and allowed my writing to flow. In that round, I received my best votes and also feedback. I will take that forward into next year. Because people, I know I can write, I can edit my work and I can put commas in the right places (most of the time). I also do have a creative side and I can show it. I will take the experiences of this year with me. But also, I will continue to learn from those still in the competition.
As the red velvet curtains opened, the stage slowly revolved. The slave’s limbs were firmly secured to a St Andrew’s Cross by fur lined leather cuffs. Her mouth filled with a ball gag secured behind her head. With wide eyes focused on her audience, her mind flashed back an hour.
Master had led her on a leash, naked into the small empty theatre. This place reminiscent of a venue they had visited on her birthday. A circular stage surrounded by 20-30 seats they had sat in the midst of the action. The actors had weaved in and out of the audience making it an intimate, immersive experience. This was how the idea had formed in Master’s mind.
Now though, the seats were filled with smartly dressed men and women, the Dominants. At their feet an equal number of naked submissive people. As the stage slowly rotated and slave realised she knew everyone. Some were mere acquaintances and others true special friends to them both.
Master stepped up to the applause of the group and approached his slave. Tears filled her eyes as he began to stroke her with the fingers of both hands. Starting at her shoulders, moving down her arms, onto her tummy, up to her breasts, circling the nipples. Finally he placed the fingers of his left hand between her legs and stroked the wet, throbbing pussy then leant down to suck her right nipple. She squirmed, bucking her hips towards his fingers. The stage stopped moving.
Standing up he leaned towards her left ear and whispered.
“Darling slave girl, your fantasies are about to be realised” Spit filled her mouth as she tried to speak, to ask what he meant. He grinned and took a vibrating wand in his hand and pushed it into her throbbing pussy and beckoned to a man in the audience. He in turn nodded to the girl at his feet and she stood up, walked purposefully to the stage, stepped up and as previously instructed dropped to her knees.
Master removed the wand and the girl crawled close to the slave. She leaned up and her tongue circled the clitoris of her subject. Slave’s juices began to gush forth, only to be lapped up.
Slave focused on her grinning Master and nodded. Whatever her resovations, Master knew just what she needed. On display, secured to the cross, her previously identified boundaries pushed to the limit. Safe in the knowledge that they shared a secret safe code she nodded again.
Master turned away and invited their friend Ross to take up a flogger and begin the show.
Today I was back at work just a few miles from Camden Town. It seemed almost impossible to believe that my 4 day break had flown by quite so quickly. The anticipation and excitement I felt on Thursday as I left the office replaced by tiredness and yes a little sadness. We are going to have to wait an entire year before Eroticon takes place again. But I have taken away some amazing memories along with a head crammed with ideas. Yesterday I was just too tired to write, but in the office this morning I could have written loads. Instead I got down to the emails, interspersed that is with twitter chat. So, what were my highlights?
There were so many great sessions to attend, so there were difficult choices. I can honestly say I enjoyed every session I went to.
Remittance Girl’s session on Taboo and Transgression had me thinking all weekend. It also gave Master and I plenty to discuss in our downtime and with others at the conference. The universal taboos of incest, murder and canabalism are almost passé as film and book topics. Speaking ill of modern politicians and celebrities perhaps carries a greater danger. Remittance Girl was clear that as writers we must tackle the really difficult topics. Consent, pornography, the sexualisation of children, of illness and disability to name a few.
Kayla Lords provided an insight into the making a living from blogging and writing. Something I hadn’t really considered. It has made me assess my worth and given me food for thought about the future. This is not something I would pursue while still working but it could be an alternative to what I had planned. On Sunday, I attended Cressida Dowling’s session: Is there a book in your blog? In essence I think the answer is no – I have no clear theme, I am not organised enough and am probably too lazy. I’ll leave that to others and buy their book.
Neil Brown’s Legal tips session was very interesting. Unfortunately we got stuck on the issue of age verification. I know this is a really important topic and one we all need to know about, but it prevented him covering everything. I enjoyed hearing his views and advice on freelancing, particularly after Kayla’s earlier talk. And I was pleased to find he confirmed much of her advice.
The talk on SEO by Miguel and Mark from Fetish.com was extremely useful. The loss of my blog and subsequently pasting my old backed up posts means I have about 600 without SEO. Loads to do then.
Vac Play and Kink Lab
I knew Mactire was going to be at Eroticon and had already decided I was going to try out vac play. He offered me the choice of all 3 of the beds, I chose the one I thought least likely to cause me anxiety.
I loved the experience and will definitely try the cube in the future. I am less keen on the Vac Bed that involves being completely encased in rubber.
Last year at Eroticon I struggled to engage fully with my fellow delegates. This is not a new issue for me at conferences. I tend to stick with people I know and having Master with me meant I conformed to type. This year though I wanted things to be different. He did too and I agreed to socialise more.
Being more active on Twitter before the event helped. By the end of the Friday meet and greet I had already spoken to more new people than in the whole of the weekend last year.
I enjoyed re-engaging with people from last year, putting faces to names from blogs and twitter. We spent some time on Friday speaking to Kendra, including helping her plan her visit to Harry Potter World. She told us a little about the talk she would be giving on Sunday. It didn’t however prepare me for the power of her talk on Sunday. I am in awe of the things she has gone through during her life and that she has fought so hard to express herself. She is an absolute inspiration.
I am an author
Earlier in the year I submitted a story for inclusion in the Truth, the Eroticon Anthology. My submission is a true life account. I can’t describe how good it makes me feel to see my work in the Anthology. I will write more about this another time.
A weekend away
We love a weekend in a hotel. Even though we live just 20-30 miles from the Eroticon venue there was no question of us commuting. That would make it too much like being at work. We stayed in our favourite hotel, near Euston and took the tube or bus. The cold weather took me by surprise since I didn’t believe the forecast. So I arrived in and had to wear my light weight raincoat all weekend. But our room was warm and the bed huge. Sunday afternoon we snuck away from Eroticon and attended a pre-booked concert. Then dozed in the room. I wanted to go and meet up for post Eroticon drinks but couldn’t find enough energy for more than a stroll to a nearby burger bar.
An extra night in the hotel and a day off on Monday rounded off the weekend. Back home it felt like the weekend was a dream. I felt sad because the days had flown by. But with such wonderful memories I know this sadness will be short lived.