Well, not literally, not in a physical sense. But my girlfriend Bobbi gave me a severe verbal chastisement that left me feeling sore, embarrassed and ashamed. I would have preferred the option of offering my bare buttocks for a hard spanking, delivered with the rigid palm of her hand, or twenty merciless strokes from a bamboo cane. But no - she selected the far more painful punishment of carefully chosen words. She gave me a tongue-lashing, and it hurt like hell.
And what, you might ask, was the reason for this punishment?
Simple. I made the Big Mistake of blogging about a particular aspect of our relationship. I thought Bobbi had already agreed to it, but I was wrong. And so - and not for the first time in my life - I badly misunderstood the situation. I screwed up. I shared intimate details of our relationship with anyone who dropped by. The blogpost in question caused much wailing, and much gnashing of teeth, not only for Bobbi but for two other people as well. Oh dear, oh dear! It all hit the fan at very high speed.
Whatever were you thinking? asked Bobbi.
I really didn't know the answer. It's not like I was massively drunk when I wrote the blogpost. Maybe I was trying to make a point.
Things have settled down a bit since Sunday. Our relationship is back to normal. The 'aspect' I blogged about has gone away, and the controversial post has been removed. I think I've been forgiven, or maybe I'm just out on parole.
Oh well. Life goes on.
Below, as a kind of footnote, is how I imagine the punishment if Bobbi had chosen to wield a thin length of bamboo instead of a torrent of words.
* * * *
I approached the table nervously, clutching the hem of my short blue skirt, as if I expected a gust of wind to blow it upward. But there was no breeze in Miss Roberta's office. It was a small, musty-smelling room with only a single tiny window. She and I were alone, just the two of us. I tried to start a dialogue, in the faint hope that she might not carry out the punishment.
'Please, Miss Roberta. Please don't do it. The cane hurts so much.'
Be quiet, Yasmin. You must endure the penalty for writing those foolish messages on your blog.
'Please, Miss. I promise to be....'
Silence! Lift up your skirt. That's it - all the way up to your waist.
'I'm so frightened, Miss.'
Try to be brave, Yasmin. Bend over and touch your toes.
'Don't. I beg you. Please don't.'
Don't what?
'Please don't pull down my panties.'
Stop whining, you silly girl. Bend over and touch your toes. Keep still.
'I can't, Miss. I'm trembling all over. I don't want to be caned.'
Relax your buttocks, or the strokes will be twice as painful. Are you ready?
'Oh God! Please don't hurt me. I promise I will never....'
THWACK!!
The stroke put a line of fire across my naked bottom, leaving a narrow red-pink stripe on the skin. Another stroke followed. THWACK!! And then another. THWACK!! My rear cheeks were already stinging terribly, but the cane hadn't finished with me yet.....
* * * * * * *
Showing posts with label lesbian bondage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lesbian bondage. Show all posts
Tuesday, 4 June 2013
Thursday, 29 November 2012
The Debt: a tale of lesbian bondage
It was not supposed to be like this. Sarah knew this was not the kind of game she wanted to play. The knots were too tight and the thin leather cords bit into her skin. She had agreed to indulge in a bit of kinky bondage with Nikki and Jade but it was not turning out how she had expected. It just didn't feel right. In fact, it was starting to feel quite scary.
Her arms and legs were already aching from being stretched to the corners of the X-shaped cross. Every muscle, every sinew, every sensitive nerve in her body was hurting. Her limbs were pulled so taut that her breath came in short gasps which made her shudder all over. She was completely naked. Never had she felt so vulnerable, so exposed, so utterly helpless. Between her splayed thighs her pussy was lewdly displayed, its flesh-lips gaping like the open petals of a summer rose. Her pubic hair had been shaved off with a dry razor which had left her feeling sore and tender. The shaving had been done after Nikki and Jade crucified her. Each of them had taken a turn with the razor, giggling as they drew it slowly across her skin. They had deliberately chosen a blunt blade so that the tiny blonde hairs were ripped from her crotch.
The cross was fixed to a gray concrete wall in the basement of an old warehouse on Ricken Street. In the dim yellow glow of a single lamp Sarah noticed that she was in a large, square room with a bare floor. It was empty except for a long wooden table in the center. To her dismay she saw that the table had metal handcuffs fitted to each corner. Upon the tabletop, arranged in a neat line like a workman's tools, lay ten strange-looking implements. Three were shaped like long, thick penises made of hard black rubber. She reckoned they were at least fifteen inches long, with bulbous tips pointing menacingly towards her. The largest was thicker than her wrist, longer than her forearm and had a raised brass ring halfway along the shaft. Merely gazing at it, and wondering what it would feel like inside her body, was enough to chill her blood. The other items were similarly disconcerting: a leather whip with five thongs, each of which terminated in a sturdy round knot; a thin bamboo cane; a ball-gag; a shiny metal rod with a rubber handle connected to an electric cable; a small hairbrush with stiff bristles; a pack of latex gloves; and a big tube of lubricant.
She had been left alone in the room for nearly an hour and she was stating to panic. Fear spread through her veins like poison as her mind raced with terrible thoughts. What if Nikki and Jade decided not to come back? They were supposed to be her friends, so surely they would not simply leave her in this awful place? On the other hand, why would anyone treat another person in such a degrading way, if they were truly a friend? After all, nice people don't strip their friends naked and tie them to crosses. Sarah now bitterly regretted her willingness to participate in this strange game. The only reason she had agreed to play the role of slave-girl was to please Colette, her lover, who owed money to Nikki and Jade. The session of kinky role-play was meant to pay off Colette's debt. It was supposed to begin with a couple of hours of light bondage, with Sarah being tied and spanked and gently flogged. This was to be followed by a sexy threesome - with Sarah still playing the submissive - and maybe later a foursome if Colette decided to come along after work. Sarah had refused to spend the whole night with Nikki and Jade. They were beautiful women and she certainly felt attracted to them. But she did not share their passion for extreme kink, nor did she want to spend more than a few hours alone with them. She reckoned they were slightly crazy. They were notorious around the local lesbian community for pushing the sexual boundaries too far, and for taking too many risks. Many of the things they reputedly did to each other went far beyond what most people regarded as acceptable.
Sarah began to shiver uncontrollably. Not because the room was cold. Indeed, the steam pipes running across the ceiling made the air hot and humid. Her nude, splayed body already glistened with sweat. But she was shivering nonetheless, because her tightly stretched muscles were going into spasm. The pain in her wrists and ankles was growing. She wondered if Nikki and Jade had left her alone to increase her discomfort, to make sure she was already hurting when they eventually returned to resume the role-play. She hoped they were intending to come back soon, even though she was not relishing the prospect of being whipped and abused. Her greatest fear was that they might not come back for a long time, and that she would be left in the basement, all alone with her pain and thirst. So she hoped they would return sooner rather than later, to do whatever they wanted to do, to have their fun with her, and then to release her as soon as it was over.
She wondered if she would be able to endure the ordeal without crying or fainting. Terrifying images flashed through her mind as she gazed at the table. Although not a person of vast sexual experience she possessed enough knowledge to realize what the latex gloves were for. The thought of being subected to such humiliation made her catch her breath. Her main hope was that the lubricant would be used generously, to ease the inevitable discomfort, and that the degrading ritual would stop if she screamed.
These and other disturbing images were still floating around in her brain when she heard footsteps and voices outside the door. She recognized Nikki's voice, and Jade's, but a third woman was also there. Not Colette, whose French accent was distinctive, but someone else, someone unfamiliar. Sarah listened attentively. She could not hear everything that was said but the debt was certainly referred to a couple of times. Suddenly she froze. Her breathing paused. Her naked, sweat-soaked body turned rigid, like the polished statue of a crucified saint. She felt sure her own name was being mentioned in the conversation. Then she heard Jade's voice speaking loud and clear: 'Yes, Colette went away on a business trip. It was totally unexpected.' And then came Nikki's voice: 'That's right. Our plans have changed. Colette said we can keep the pretty slut for the next five days.'
Five days! The words tore through Sarah's heart like iron nails. Five days with Nikki and Jade! Five days of sexual torment and unspeakable depravity. Surely there must be some mistake? Colette would not abandon her like that, not without first retrieving her from the clutches of these horribly perverted women.
And then the door opened, and she heard Nikki's voice again: 'Hello, Sarah. Want to hear the good news?'
* * * * *
The Debt. Copyright © Yasmin Cavendish 2012.
######
Her arms and legs were already aching from being stretched to the corners of the X-shaped cross. Every muscle, every sinew, every sensitive nerve in her body was hurting. Her limbs were pulled so taut that her breath came in short gasps which made her shudder all over. She was completely naked. Never had she felt so vulnerable, so exposed, so utterly helpless. Between her splayed thighs her pussy was lewdly displayed, its flesh-lips gaping like the open petals of a summer rose. Her pubic hair had been shaved off with a dry razor which had left her feeling sore and tender. The shaving had been done after Nikki and Jade crucified her. Each of them had taken a turn with the razor, giggling as they drew it slowly across her skin. They had deliberately chosen a blunt blade so that the tiny blonde hairs were ripped from her crotch.
The cross was fixed to a gray concrete wall in the basement of an old warehouse on Ricken Street. In the dim yellow glow of a single lamp Sarah noticed that she was in a large, square room with a bare floor. It was empty except for a long wooden table in the center. To her dismay she saw that the table had metal handcuffs fitted to each corner. Upon the tabletop, arranged in a neat line like a workman's tools, lay ten strange-looking implements. Three were shaped like long, thick penises made of hard black rubber. She reckoned they were at least fifteen inches long, with bulbous tips pointing menacingly towards her. The largest was thicker than her wrist, longer than her forearm and had a raised brass ring halfway along the shaft. Merely gazing at it, and wondering what it would feel like inside her body, was enough to chill her blood. The other items were similarly disconcerting: a leather whip with five thongs, each of which terminated in a sturdy round knot; a thin bamboo cane; a ball-gag; a shiny metal rod with a rubber handle connected to an electric cable; a small hairbrush with stiff bristles; a pack of latex gloves; and a big tube of lubricant.
She had been left alone in the room for nearly an hour and she was stating to panic. Fear spread through her veins like poison as her mind raced with terrible thoughts. What if Nikki and Jade decided not to come back? They were supposed to be her friends, so surely they would not simply leave her in this awful place? On the other hand, why would anyone treat another person in such a degrading way, if they were truly a friend? After all, nice people don't strip their friends naked and tie them to crosses. Sarah now bitterly regretted her willingness to participate in this strange game. The only reason she had agreed to play the role of slave-girl was to please Colette, her lover, who owed money to Nikki and Jade. The session of kinky role-play was meant to pay off Colette's debt. It was supposed to begin with a couple of hours of light bondage, with Sarah being tied and spanked and gently flogged. This was to be followed by a sexy threesome - with Sarah still playing the submissive - and maybe later a foursome if Colette decided to come along after work. Sarah had refused to spend the whole night with Nikki and Jade. They were beautiful women and she certainly felt attracted to them. But she did not share their passion for extreme kink, nor did she want to spend more than a few hours alone with them. She reckoned they were slightly crazy. They were notorious around the local lesbian community for pushing the sexual boundaries too far, and for taking too many risks. Many of the things they reputedly did to each other went far beyond what most people regarded as acceptable.
Sarah began to shiver uncontrollably. Not because the room was cold. Indeed, the steam pipes running across the ceiling made the air hot and humid. Her nude, splayed body already glistened with sweat. But she was shivering nonetheless, because her tightly stretched muscles were going into spasm. The pain in her wrists and ankles was growing. She wondered if Nikki and Jade had left her alone to increase her discomfort, to make sure she was already hurting when they eventually returned to resume the role-play. She hoped they were intending to come back soon, even though she was not relishing the prospect of being whipped and abused. Her greatest fear was that they might not come back for a long time, and that she would be left in the basement, all alone with her pain and thirst. So she hoped they would return sooner rather than later, to do whatever they wanted to do, to have their fun with her, and then to release her as soon as it was over.
She wondered if she would be able to endure the ordeal without crying or fainting. Terrifying images flashed through her mind as she gazed at the table. Although not a person of vast sexual experience she possessed enough knowledge to realize what the latex gloves were for. The thought of being subected to such humiliation made her catch her breath. Her main hope was that the lubricant would be used generously, to ease the inevitable discomfort, and that the degrading ritual would stop if she screamed.
These and other disturbing images were still floating around in her brain when she heard footsteps and voices outside the door. She recognized Nikki's voice, and Jade's, but a third woman was also there. Not Colette, whose French accent was distinctive, but someone else, someone unfamiliar. Sarah listened attentively. She could not hear everything that was said but the debt was certainly referred to a couple of times. Suddenly she froze. Her breathing paused. Her naked, sweat-soaked body turned rigid, like the polished statue of a crucified saint. She felt sure her own name was being mentioned in the conversation. Then she heard Jade's voice speaking loud and clear: 'Yes, Colette went away on a business trip. It was totally unexpected.' And then came Nikki's voice: 'That's right. Our plans have changed. Colette said we can keep the pretty slut for the next five days.'
Five days! The words tore through Sarah's heart like iron nails. Five days with Nikki and Jade! Five days of sexual torment and unspeakable depravity. Surely there must be some mistake? Colette would not abandon her like that, not without first retrieving her from the clutches of these horribly perverted women.
And then the door opened, and she heard Nikki's voice again: 'Hello, Sarah. Want to hear the good news?'
* * * * *
The Debt. Copyright © Yasmin Cavendish 2012.
######
Wednesday, 28 November 2012
Writing lesbian BDSM: a personal view
I've always enjoyed writing lesbian bondage fiction. Soft or hard, consensual or non-consensual, the whole girls-only BDSM thing really fascinates me - but only as a theme for a story. Away from the keyboard it's a topic that has played almost no part in my life. I say almost because I've occasionally indulged in the kind of vigorous lovemaking that some people might call 'rough sex'. This was mostly with men, not women, but that's another story for another day. Even now, I am not averse to giving or receiving a firm slap on the bottom when fooling around with a playful girl. But I'm no spanker, and neither is my partner Bobbi. Nor is my sexual personality dominant or submissive. My stories of cruel mistresses and pretty slaves are not drawn from personal experience and derive entirely from my imagination.
Whenever I've written a BDSM tale I have simply chosen a scenario, switched on the computer and seen where the narrative takes me. But I would be lying if I said this kind of stuff doesn't turn me on. Writing about bondage has always felt a little bit exciting, like dabbling in a taboo. Some of my kinky stories were certainly more arousing to create than others, and my fingers would leave the keyboard and go wandering down the front of my pants. Btw, I heartily recommend stroking as a useful way of dealing with Erotic Writer's Block. It usually works for me, anyway ;-)
The consensual bondage storylines were always my favorites. Writing them never failed to turn me on, even if I didn't always go as far as touching myself. With non-consensual stories it mostly depended on what kind of mood I was in. If I was feeling depressed or angry, I could complete a fairly sadistic tale without getting aroused at all. Sometimes I would finish writing and just end up feeling more pissed off than when I started. But if I was feeling happy and relaxed, I could get aroused by pretty much anything I wrote, even if it was something that came close to being extreme bondage. There was no pattern to any of this. When I sat down at the computer to write an erotic story - whatever the theme - I never knew if I was going to get aroused or not. I remember one occasion when I was writing custom erotica for a client. I got terribly bored with typing the narrative for a non-consensual lesbian bondage scene, but then everything perked up when the scene changed to male/female domination. It was extremely hardcore heterosexual action and it really turned me on. This happened at a time when I was supposedly a 'lesbian', having told everyone I was done with guys for good. Like I said: no pattern to it. A classic case of Go Figure...
It was always interesting to get the opinions of my chief proof-readers: my sister Trish and another author called Jen. Trish has always steered clear of hard BDSM in her own stories but she grudgingly agreed to read my preliminary drafts. I would give her a printed copy and she'd come back and say 'Well written, but too nasty'. Jen on the other hand is a total bondage freak in every sense and always gave my so-called 'nasty' stories a big thumbs-up. She was never shocked by anything and reckoned there was a considerable demand for hard lesbian kink among female readers of erotica. Maybe she was right. I saw her a few months ago and told her I was intending to publish my old stories as a series of ebooks. She asked me if I would do the same with some of hers, all of which are brilliantly written and exceedingly kinky. Look out for an announcement about Jen's stories in the near future.
Over the years I've toyed with ideas for a lesbian bondage novel. I actually made three attempts, each of which fizzled out after a couple of chapters. The first was a historical tale featuring the Egyptian queen Cleopatra as the exotic captive of kinky Roman ladies. The second used the well-trodden idea of a women's prison with harsh rules. In both of these the bondage was non-consensual, but in the third novel I switched to a consensual theme based around a research institute where weird sensory experiments were performed on willing female volunteers. At some point I might publish all three as mini-novels in ebook format. I haven't done anything with them for a long time but recently I gave them a re-reading and, to be honest, I was taken aback by the severity of the BDSM scenes. My first thought was that I couldn't imagine writing such material now, because I've assumed my tastes in literary kinkiness have mellowed somewhat since my long break from writing. But last week I penned a new tale of consensual bondage and, to my surprise, it became quite 'hard' in terms of what the dommes were planning to do with their submissive slave-girl. It's a very short piece, like flash fiction, and it will appear on this blog in the next day or so.
I'm currently collating a few of my longer bondage stories for publication as an e-book anthology which will hopefully appear on Smashwords in January 2013.
Yaz xx
Whenever I've written a BDSM tale I have simply chosen a scenario, switched on the computer and seen where the narrative takes me. But I would be lying if I said this kind of stuff doesn't turn me on. Writing about bondage has always felt a little bit exciting, like dabbling in a taboo. Some of my kinky stories were certainly more arousing to create than others, and my fingers would leave the keyboard and go wandering down the front of my pants. Btw, I heartily recommend stroking as a useful way of dealing with Erotic Writer's Block. It usually works for me, anyway ;-)
The consensual bondage storylines were always my favorites. Writing them never failed to turn me on, even if I didn't always go as far as touching myself. With non-consensual stories it mostly depended on what kind of mood I was in. If I was feeling depressed or angry, I could complete a fairly sadistic tale without getting aroused at all. Sometimes I would finish writing and just end up feeling more pissed off than when I started. But if I was feeling happy and relaxed, I could get aroused by pretty much anything I wrote, even if it was something that came close to being extreme bondage. There was no pattern to any of this. When I sat down at the computer to write an erotic story - whatever the theme - I never knew if I was going to get aroused or not. I remember one occasion when I was writing custom erotica for a client. I got terribly bored with typing the narrative for a non-consensual lesbian bondage scene, but then everything perked up when the scene changed to male/female domination. It was extremely hardcore heterosexual action and it really turned me on. This happened at a time when I was supposedly a 'lesbian', having told everyone I was done with guys for good. Like I said: no pattern to it. A classic case of Go Figure...
It was always interesting to get the opinions of my chief proof-readers: my sister Trish and another author called Jen. Trish has always steered clear of hard BDSM in her own stories but she grudgingly agreed to read my preliminary drafts. I would give her a printed copy and she'd come back and say 'Well written, but too nasty'. Jen on the other hand is a total bondage freak in every sense and always gave my so-called 'nasty' stories a big thumbs-up. She was never shocked by anything and reckoned there was a considerable demand for hard lesbian kink among female readers of erotica. Maybe she was right. I saw her a few months ago and told her I was intending to publish my old stories as a series of ebooks. She asked me if I would do the same with some of hers, all of which are brilliantly written and exceedingly kinky. Look out for an announcement about Jen's stories in the near future.
Over the years I've toyed with ideas for a lesbian bondage novel. I actually made three attempts, each of which fizzled out after a couple of chapters. The first was a historical tale featuring the Egyptian queen Cleopatra as the exotic captive of kinky Roman ladies. The second used the well-trodden idea of a women's prison with harsh rules. In both of these the bondage was non-consensual, but in the third novel I switched to a consensual theme based around a research institute where weird sensory experiments were performed on willing female volunteers. At some point I might publish all three as mini-novels in ebook format. I haven't done anything with them for a long time but recently I gave them a re-reading and, to be honest, I was taken aback by the severity of the BDSM scenes. My first thought was that I couldn't imagine writing such material now, because I've assumed my tastes in literary kinkiness have mellowed somewhat since my long break from writing. But last week I penned a new tale of consensual bondage and, to my surprise, it became quite 'hard' in terms of what the dommes were planning to do with their submissive slave-girl. It's a very short piece, like flash fiction, and it will appear on this blog in the next day or so.
I'm currently collating a few of my longer bondage stories for publication as an e-book anthology which will hopefully appear on Smashwords in January 2013.
Yaz xx
Friday, 16 November 2012
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