I write BDSM erotica. Find my books on Amazon—I write Mf, MMf, and Ff stories with themes of BDSM, power exchange, humiliation, objectification, discipline, consensual non-consent, and other kinky things. My stories are strictly NSWF and 18+ and are fantasy only.
My writing is fictional. It is decidedly not real and it is not intended to be real at all. I write to amuse myself, entertain readers, and hopefully arouse us all. Once more: I am a storyteller spinning fantasies and I write fiction.
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The Kendalls' special girl squeaks adorably as Grace slams the wood ruler against her bottom. Greer has a firm hold on her head, however, and keeps her mouth in its proper place over his cock.
Grace has already delivered a dozen swats with the ruler to that plump bottom, which is now red and smarting. Each impact makes the girl emit a muffled cry. She is on her knees between Greer's spread legs, her face down over his lap.
"Little girls do not get to be picky about what they swallow," Grace reproved sternly. "You do not get to spit up what we give you to swallow."
She laid another hard smack across their very sorry girl's bottom cheeks.
"I'm close," Greer told his wife, flexing his thighs a little. "I'm going to come down our favorite girl's throat."
"You swallow all of Daddy's cum, Hannah," Grace ordered.
Greer groaned so loudly, he almost drowned out the choking, sputtering sounds from their girl, whose hands were fisted on the couch seat beside him. Struggling so hard to be good and not resist.
Grace gave her one final smack. Finally, Greer eased Hannah's head back, as Grace joined him on the couch, curled inside his side.
Their chosen little girl's face was tearstained. Her bottom hurt and her knees did too, and her throat felt sore and raw. She opened her mouth and showed them the semen on her tongue, globs more of it in her mouth.
"Very good, Hannah," Greer praised. "You may swallow."
Sniffling, she did.
"Go on over to your corner, Hannah," he said kindly. "You did well, in the end."
The Kendalls watched as she crawled away until she reached her corner, to stand there with her hands laced behind her head, until her time was done. It was her corner for reflection, for waiting, for display. She was intimately acquainted with that corner now.
The couple couldn't be more delighted with their little girl. Grace felt that Hannah's regression was coming along very nicely. She was given very limited reading material. Picture books mostly. No newspapers or magazines. No television either. These days Grace and Greer only watched movies after they'd put Hannah to bed, tied down and with an eyemask blindfolding her, and earplugs inserted to ensure she had proper rest. They gave her coloring books and 75-piece puzzles. Easy activities that didn't tax her brain. Tasks that never required her complete focus, and didn't suffer from her distraction.
A few times she asked them very politely if she could stay up to watch TV with them or read a book. The Kendalls took great pleasure in telling her, no, she didn't need those things. Gradually, she had stopped asking. A sign that she was accepting her role in life as their special girl.
Another sign: Hannah had stopped fighting her weekly enemas. What a win! That had been quite the battle. One they made sure she knew she was going to lose, every single time.
They had started taking her on limited outings. She hated wearing the diapers when they took her out, but after the incident at the park, she didn't resist. She still had no idea that the drink they'd given her to sip had caused her accident. But she agreed with them that she never wanted to experience urine dripping down her leg in public, so now whenever they asked if she was ready to be diapered before they went out, she said, yes, please, Mommy. And, thank you for diapering me, Daddy.
The diaper was bulky and made a noise when she walked, and its presence made sure she kept close to them, obediently quiet so she didn't draw attention to herself. Still, they liked to pat her diapered bottom now and again to remind her it was there, and that they knew what she had on under her dress. Reminding her that she was theirs. Their little girl toy. Not a college student studying biology like she planned. Not living independently on her own. Wholly theirs, wholly their dependent.
BDSM erotica. Fictional characters over 18.
Part 1, Part 2
The Kendalls' special girl squeaks adorably as Grace slams the wood ruler against her bottom. Greer has a firm hold on her head, however, and keeps her mouth in its proper place over his cock.
Grace has already delivered a dozen swats with the ruler to that plump bottom, which is now red and smarting. Each impact makes the girl emit a muffled cry. She is on her knees between Greer's spread legs, her face down over his lap.
"Little girls do not get to be picky about what they swallow," Grace reproved sternly. "You do not get to spit up what we give you to swallow."
She laid another hard smack across their very sorry girl's bottom cheeks.
"I'm close," Greer told his wife, flexing his thighs a little. "I'm going to come down our favorite girl's throat."
"You swallow all of Daddy's cum, Hannah," Grace ordered.
Greer groaned so loudly, he almost drowned out the choking, sputtering sounds from their girl, whose hands were fisted on the couch seat beside him. Struggling so hard to be good and not resist.
Grace gave her one final smack. Finally, Greer eased Hannah's head back, as Grace joined him on the couch, curled inside his side.
Their chosen little girl's face was tearstained. Her bottom hurt and her knees did too, and her throat felt sore and raw. She opened her mouth and showed them the semen on her tongue, globs more of it in her mouth.
"Very good, Hannah," Greer praised. "You may swallow."
Sniffling, she did.
"Go on over to your corner, Hannah," he said kindly. "You did well, in the end."
The Kendalls watched as she crawled away until she reached her corner, to stand there with her hands laced behind her head, until her time was done. It was her corner for reflection, for waiting, for display. She was intimately acquainted with that corner now.
The couple couldn't be more delighted with their little girl. Grace felt that Hannah's regression was coming along very nicely. She was given very limited reading material. Picture books mostly. No newspapers or magazines. No television either. These days Grace and Greer only watched movies after they'd put Hannah to bed, tied down and with an eyemask blindfolding her, and earplugs inserted to ensure she had proper rest. They gave her coloring books and 75-piece puzzles. Easy activities that didn't tax her brain. Tasks that never required her complete focus, and didn't suffer from her distraction.
A few times she asked them very politely if she could stay up to watch TV with them or read a book. The Kendalls took great pleasure in telling her, no, she didn't need those things. Gradually, she had stopped asking. A sign that she was accepting her role in life as their special girl.
Another sign: Hannah had stopped fighting her weekly enemas. What a win! That had been quite the battle. One they made sure she knew she was going to lose, every single time.
They had started taking her on limited outings. She hated wearing the diapers when they took her out, but after the incident at the park, she didn't resist. She still had no idea that the drink they'd given her to sip had caused her accident. But she agreed with them that she never wanted to experience urine dripping down her leg in public, so now whenever they asked if she was ready to be diapered before they went out, she said, yes, please, Mommy. And, thank you for diapering me, Daddy.
The diaper was bulky and made a noise when she walked, and its presence made sure she kept close to them, obediently quiet so she didn't draw attention to herself. Still, they liked to pat her diapered bottom now and again to remind her it was there, and that they knew what she had on under her dress. Reminding her that she was theirs. Their little girl toy. Not a college student studying biology like she planned. Not living independently on her own. Wholly theirs, wholly their dependent.
Part 4 here
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