Thursday, September 6, 2012


I have diverse interests. I'll label this: F/F/f, spanking, anal, aftershave.


"I’ve found us a third," M says.
How sweet is this woman? How thoughtful? She’s found us another Bottom to play with? She reads my mind?
"Another Top," she says. "Her style is very different from ours so we’ve been talking about it, deciding what we wanted to do."
What you wanted to do to me?

Aloud I say, "okay?"

M is very thorough. Thinks things through. Safe word in place, boundaries clearly established, some restrictions apply. All I have to do is go along.

I say, "okay?"

We meet in the storeroom of the office building the woman manages. She knows where the custodial staff will be, no one will interrupt us. It’s not a bad space. Darkish. Smells like fresh paper.

She is darkish and smells like aftershave. She does. Perfumes smell different on different people. Or it’s aftershave.

She says, "you will call me Mommy."

Oh here we go. So not, no. I could get into that, I could call someone Mommy. But not you. You’re possibly the most unMommy-like creature I’ve ever seen. Handsome woman, I don’t mean that, but you’re not Mommy and you’re pushy and you’re standing too close. Tell you what, I’ll call you Ma. That’s the Chinese word for pompous overbearing bulldyke.

Aloud I say, "okay."

Ma lands one on my right butt cheek that hurls me into M, elbowing her left tit severely. Which I hope to hell hurts.

Ma’s right hand is a solid block of wood. Or titanium. The muscles of her arm have been removed and replaced with steel cables, powered by hydraulics in her shoulder. Ma’s a beast.

I right myself and glare meaningfully at M.

Do you even know this woman? "Her style is different than ours?" Her solar system is different than ours. She’s some kind of Spankbot. What did you get me into?

Aloud I say nothing, just grunt as I am slammed over Ma’s lap. What’s she sitting on? I didn’t see a chair.

Ma has one speed, Stun. There are no spaces between her fingers. They don’t cup, they don’t wrap. She must have thumbs, she got my clothing down with record efficiency, but in no other way is this appendage a hand.

It’s a baseball bat, it’s a club, it’s –

It’s over? She stands me up, facing away from her, facing M. My butt aches with that far off tolling bell feeling. As the pain rolls in, that bell is going to get louder and louder and it tolls for thee.

M steps forward and holds my arms above the elbows. Something smooth and slender and hard touches my anus. Twirls lightly at my anus. I hear Ma uncork a vat of lubricant. She pushes some into me and says conversationally, "Now you’re going to fuck this."

I say to M, "I don’t want to, don’t tell me to do this."

Now on top of everything else I have to deal with demonic possession? Something else is in here with me and it just said that out of my mouth because it wasn’t me that said it. I don’t beg. Ever. Once I locked myself in the bathroom but that was not begging. And in front of a stranger with a glass dildo? I need help. Get me an exorcist.

M pushes me down slowly, lowering me onto the thing. Being spanked standing up destroys me. Something in the maximum impact jiggle, I don’t know. Anal standing up, in this half crouch, is dizzying. There is something too perverse in a situation that makes you feel like you’re going to throw up and orgasm at the same time. It’s a paradigm shift even I can’t straddle.

"Do it yourself," M says softly, "do it to yourself." She puts my hands on her shoulders. My legs are long gone. I’m supported by her shoulders and a glass rod up my ass. How can something that slimed with cold lube burn?

I can’t cry. If this makes me cry I have to kill myself. It’s in the Code somewhere, I’ve read it.

M taking my victimhood. Making me complicit. Do it to yourself. Copulate in front of us.
She stands very close to me and my calves are pushed back into Ma’s legs from the knees down. Their woman heat sears me front and back. My heat rages through me, igniting that deep muscle burn in my bottom. I raise and lower myself, making unfamiliar noises in my throat.

Stay in the moment. Find the submission, find the surrender, find the reward.

M takes her hand from my waist and fingers me. She sets me free to come. I rock against the glass dick, my fingers digging into her shoulders. Brightness falls from the air. The inner scream. The little death.

Ma snorts and disappears. Off to clean her glass gun. M towels me down from a case of personal cleansing wipes she has thought to bring. She finds my clothes but we can’t go yet. I can’t walk. We sit on the floor forehead to forehead counting the heartbeats.

I've written about M before, here.


  1. Oh, this is intense, and hilarious. You made me laugh so many times I had to show my husband because he was like "What, what?" - when you sit laptop to laptop over breakfast in the morning it kind of leads to sharing.

    "Do you even know this woman? "Her style is different than ours?" Her solar system is different than ours. She’s some kind of Spankbot. What did you get me into?"

    "What's she sitting on? I didn't see a chair."

    Oh, the peals of laughter. That soon ended, because OUCH.

    What WAS she sitting on?

    1. She probably wasn't sitting on anything. Just ratcheted her robolegs down and locked them in place.

      I love the image of you laptop to laptop :)

  2. Wow. I know someone like Ma and I have been spanked soundly with her iron hand. Ouch!

    Hot scene Emen.


  3. This is such a cheeky piece :o)
    I love the description of the room smelling "like fresh paper" .
    Great intensity; battling of doing it and not doing it but reaching the "doing" part in the end.
    The cynic wit throughout this piece certainly held my attention:o)

  4. Emen,

    One of my all time favorites... from the tags to the image of Ma cleaning off her glass gun. Priceless.


    1. Aww, you like my tagging? Thank you Sweetcake.

  5. This is hot stuff.
    And those titanium hands, how we hate them.

    I really like your writing style.

    1. Thank you. Where do they buy those hands?

  6. You paint a great mental picture with your words...I like it....and it make me uncomfortable. Uncomfortable, because I am not one to submit.

    Mr. No Name

    1. Not in most things, but I think you submit to the lure of a beautiful woman, n'importe quand :)

  7. Okay... I was worried at first, but I see that everyone took this as hot. which, of course, it was, I just wasn't sure it was all okay for you at first. You tell a gripping story!!

    1. That makes me smile, that you were worried. Stretching the kink always comes with trepidation. But always worth it :)

    2. oh renee... you weren't the only one. i was gripping my couch as i was reading this. thinking,... oh no.. what's she been made to do now!!

      and then i realised everything was ok... then i realised i had stopped breathing for a bit.

      I think that says it's a good story. don't you?

    3. Y'all are making me nervous all over again. Kinda like it :)

  8. oh my here I am late ...but i can't tell you how ht and bothered I am here after reading this!

    1. I'm always late too. I need the notifications wired intravenously :)

      It still makes me hot and bothered too. Some things do.

  9. Robotic arms are the worst!

    1. You're cracking me up. Can't believe you went back through these :)