Naughty cupid erotica contest
By Rebecca Ridge
I rush up my garden path, almost tripping over in my haste. I’ve just dropped the kids at my mother’s for the weekend and tonight I’m going out. I’m so excited, I could scream.
My heart races in anticipation. What delicious delights will my date have in store for me?
As if following the cue, my phone beeps. I dig around in my oversized handbag, pulling out two dummies, a toy car, and a snotty tissue, before finding my phone nestled within biscuit crumbs at the bottom. I sigh.
My throat goes dry when I see it’s a private number.
The text is simple.
DON’T be late!
A loud bang on my front door makes me jump. Spinning around I yank it open. A courier stands holding a black box.
“Parcel for Iris Ford.” I quickly sign for the parcel, intrigue burning in my gut.
I run up to my bedroom, ripping open the large box. I carefully take the items out one by one, swallowing nervously. I hold up a tiny leather mini skirt. There is nothing to it – literally. Next the matching top, if you can call it a top. I tug down one of the tiny zips that hold the cups together. Nerves hammer rapidly in my rib cage. Lastly, I gingerly pull out the thigh-high leather boots. I notice a chink of silver under some tissue paper in the box. Pulling out the diamante collar, I examine it with awe, fingering the small hoop that hangs at the front.
My date isn’t an ordinary date.
He is my Dom.
My nerves are at a fever pitch when the taxi pulls up outside Red Haze. I have a long overcoat covering my outfit, but my footwear is impossible to miss. The cabbie doesn’t speak but his leering stares say more than his mouth can.
Joining the queue to the club, my pulse really starts to race. It’s always the same. Red Haze is a European fetish-kink event. It travels to various locations but tonight it’s here, and it’s Valentine’s night. It couldn’t be more perfect.
After a hefty wait, I am finally inside. I really don’t want to remove my overcoat. I have never worn anything this extravagant before. It’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have complained about hating my body. This outfit is my punishment for that error.
I see him standing at the bar, his back is to me. He is wearing tight leather trousers that hug his ass and perfect thighs in a way that should be illegal. Licking my lips, I can feel the wetness starting to build between my thighs. Fuck. No underwear makes it hard to hide.
I slowly make my way through the exotically dressed crowd. He turns when he sees me. I lower my eyes instinctively.
He doesn’t move to touch me. He says simply with the authority that he commands
“Take off the coat Iris.” Butterflies swirl nervously in my abdomen; I know I have disappointed him.
I obey without question.
“Iris look at your master.”
I do as I’m told. His molten chocolate eyes burn onto mine, setting a fire blazing through my veins.
“Take your coat to the cloakroom. Do not hang your head; be confident.” He puts a finger under my chin, tipping my head to examine my collar.
“You are beautiful, and you belong to me. My opinion is the only one that should matter.”
I swallow, nodding once. “It does, Sir.”
He stands back casually, one arm resting on the bar, and watches me make the walk across the crowded club to the cloakroom.
I hold tightly to the coat to quell my shaking hands. I’m on the wrong side of thirty with two kids in toe; I don’t exactly feel sexy.
After topping up my bright red lipstick… another one of his rules, I reluctantly hand over my coat, and make my way back. His eyes lock with mine from the other side of the room and suddenly I don’t feel so self-conscious. I am his and he thinks I’m beautiful; no one else matters. With newfound confidence, I walk, swaying my hips slightly. He’s the picture of cool, but I see a slight smile playing around his delicious lips. It warms me. I live to please him.
He wastes no time pressing his edible mouth to mine. Kissing me hungrily, his tongue possessively dominating. I groan into his mouth. He slaps my almost bare ass in response.
He lets me go and pulls a chain out of his pocket, he hooks the end onto the ring of my collar, yanking me to him. He’s gazing down at me.
“Shall we go rectify your mistake Iris? So, we can move on and enjoy ourselves?”
My stomach drops, but I just reply with: “Yes, Sir.”
I’m shackled by my legs and arms to the Saint Andrews Cross provided by the event hosts in the dungeon playroom. It’s one of many delightful rooms the club has at its disposal. My stomach is frozen with nerves.
We’ve garnered quite a crowd of bystanders. Public humiliation isn’t one of my favourite kinks, but excitement still spikes.
His lips at my throat bring me into focus. Suddenly I’m tuned only to him. He drags the leather of the flogger handle slowly down my naked back to the top of my skirt. Flipping it up, revealing my bare ass. I hold my breath.
He groans his approval as he sinks two fingers into my wet folds.
“Your pussy feels delicious?” He compliments in a low tone only I can hear.
“Do you enjoy being my slut?”
My head lolls back, “Yes Master.”
He purrs into my ear, “My good little slut.”
I glow from his praise.
His fingers are still slowly moving in and out of my pussy, massaging my G spot. He’s a fucking master, alright. My body burns with unsatisfied desire. But all too soon he pulls them out, leaving me feeling empty like I knew he would. After all, this isn’t for pleasure… Well not mine.
“Why am I punishing you, Iris?” he asks, his voice low and laced with authority.
“Because I hid myself, Master.”
Satisfied, he smacks my ass hard, making me yelp, before he stands back. I close my eyes and try to ignore the people watching our display.
The first lash rains down, making me moan. It’s not painful… yet. He builds a steady momentum of blows, each a little harder than the last.
“What colour are you, Iris?” He asks calmly.
“Green Master,” I boast, feeling good.
He steps back. I brace myself.
The next lash connects with a crack, making me squeal. The sting spreads like fire over my delicate flesh.
Instinctively, I struggle against my bonds. It’s futile, I’m going nowhere until he allows it. The next lash hits before I can brace myself. I scream as the pain doubles, blurring my vision.
“Colour Iris,” he demands.
“Yellow,” I scream through gritted teeth.
My incoherent screams fill the air, as his lashes rain down. He doesn’t stop, he knows if I need a safe word, I will call red. After a while, I begin to lose myself. I can feel my consciousness pricking the edges of subspace.
I don’t know exactly when he stopped. I’m drifting in my own endorphin filled euphoria, but somehow, I’m lying in his arms on one of the sofas that line the playroom. His soft but calm voice is in my ear.
“Welcome back, Angel.” My heart swells at the use of my pet name. It means I’m forgiven.
“I smile lazily, “Thank you, Sir.”
He smiles warmly down at me, his fingers stroking my hair in a rhythmic gesture.
“You know, I wasn’t going to let you fly.” He pauses for a second gazing into my eyes, setting the butterflies flying erratically.
“But you took that like a queen and a queen deserves a reward.”
A small giggle escapes my lips. “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome, Angel,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to mine
I get cleaned up a while later in the club toilets. A couple of other submissives are cleaning themselves from various play sessions.
“Your marks are beautiful,” a young blonde sub says to me, with awe in her voice.
I turn so I can see the angry red lash marks standing out against my pale skin. My skin is shiny and glossy from the cooling salve Sir rubbed in as an aftercare. I swell with pride. The marks of his love and my devotion to him.
“They are, aren’t they?” I agree with a satisfied smile.
He’s waiting for me outside the toilet. He walks confidently over, kissing me possessively, before hooking the chain back onto my collar. I smile. I love the security that the feel of this collar gives.
People outside of this life don’t understand the feeling of protection a sub gets from being owned.
I walk dutifully behind him, through the crowded dance floor. We’re surrounded by like-minded individuals, each dressed in various outfits made of PVC, rubber, or leather.
We walk past a Domme and her male sub. He is wearing only a chastity cage and a leather collar. He’s being led through the crowd on his hands and knees. Nobody but me gives them a second glance. It’s normal practice here. This is a place where there is no judgement. Nobody kink shames. It’s a place to be free and unleash your inner desires, no matter how strange. We are a community for all.
For me, it’s a place to forget my boring, mundane existence and be someone else. I don’t have to think, make plans, or be responsible for anything or anyone. I do as I’m told, and he takes care of everything else. The arrangement suits me fine.
We sit at the bar, drinking vodka and chatting for a while. He asks me a lot of questions. He doesn’t want to hear about my everyday life. He wants to hear about the things I want, my inner thoughts. He asks me for a fantasy that I would like to play out. This is always my homework. He wants to hear about movies I want to see, books I want to read, places I want to go. He doesn’t talk about himself. His attention is solely on me. My heart squeezes in pleasure. I feel so special and loved.
“Do you want to dance, Angel?” he asks, noticing that I keep looking toward the door of the main nightclub. Not everyone who comes here is here for hardcore BDSM. Some people come to just be themselves.
The music is loud and infectious, so I nod, excitedly.
“Yes please, Sir.”
Taking me by the hand he leads me into the other room. The bass from the loudspeakers vibrates through my body, exciting me more. The alcohol is starting to have the desired effect. Loosening my inhabitations. We find a spot in the crowd and I start to move my hips to the sexy beat. I close my eyes and pretend that I’m dressed in something that resembles actual clothing, throw my arms in the air and give myself over to the music.
After a minute his arms circle me from behind. I dance, rubbing myself up against him. He trails his warm hands up over my abdomen to my chest. I lean into him, swaying to the beat of the music. The strobe lights are flashing. The whole room looks like it’s moving in slow motion; it’s intense. He pulls down the zips that are holding my modesty in place, revealing my full breasts. He cups them in both hands, kneading them gently to the music. I grind against him, unable to help myself. He expertly rolls my nipples between his fingers and thumbs, elongating them to the point of almost pain. He knows what I like. Passion runs through me thick and hot. I moan quietly. Continuing his assault with one hand, he moves the other down between my thighs, cupping my mound with his palm, plunging three fingers deep into my soaking wet folds. I push against him with my ass, grinding against his erection. The feeling from my nipple coupled with him massaging my G spot is almost enough to tip me over the edge. My body is burning with need, but I wouldn’t dare to come. Not without his permission. My beautiful torment increases when his thumb starts to circle over my clit in the most tantalising way. I jerk, upsetting his rhythm because I almost come then and there. Squeezing my nipple tight he pulls me hard against his body pinning me to him and resuming his flow.
“Careful, Angel,” he whispers darkly.
It’s a warning and I take heed. Concentrating on the pounding bass instead of my throbbing clit. His thumb delicately brushes and encircles over the hard-swollen nub. The feeling is almost too much to bear. He continues, rubbing in slow circles, my soaking wet juices make it all the more intense.
The music changes to a faster beat. A couple nudge us with their dancing, bringing me back into the room. Giving me a reprieve from his beautiful, euphoric torture.
His pace picks up with the music. I can’t hold on much longer. My whole body is shaking from the effort of not climaxing.
He groans softly in my ear, goosebumps spread down my exposed flesh, making my already rock-hard nipples even harder.
Satisfied with my determination he breathes sexily in my ear, “Good girl, Iris.” Everything that’s left inside me liquifies at his sexy tone.
“Please Sir,” I beg. I don’t care that we are on a crowded dance floor being watched by many. I don’t even care about the guy who is blatantly wanking right in front of us. I just need to come… I have to come.
His thumb slides up and over my desperate clit in a faster rhythm. Just when I think I can’t take anymore; he whispers the words that are my undoing.
“Come for me, Angel.” I fall off the edge that I’m barely balancing on, crashing deep into waves of pure ecstasy. My body shakes as I come dramatically in his arms. He presses his thumb tightly against my clit, so I soak up every single sensation.
When I’m done, he trails his warm and wet fingers all the way up my abdomen, between the valley of my breasts up to my mouth. He rubs my cum over my lips, I lap at his fingers tasting myself. His erection is thick against my back. I want him.
Turning in his arms, our eyes meet sending shockwaves through my body.
His arms tighten so I’m flush against him.
“What do you want Angel?” he asks, knowing full well what I want.
“I want to please my master,” I purr seductively.
Taking my hand, he walks backwards through the crowd not taking his eyes from mine. He guides me upstairs to the playrooms, settling on a black leather sofa in the voyeur room. I stand before him unmoving, enraptured. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to please him. He gestures with his head to his groin.
“Please your master, Angel.” I drop to my knees and crawl towards him, settling between his open thighs. I undo his trousers, taking my time pulling down his zip. He’s commando like I knew he would be. I tug out his erection, wasting no time covering it with my mouth. His hand clamps on the back of my neck as I suck him greedily. He tastes of salt and pre-cum, it’s delicious. I take my time sucking and licking every inch of his hard cock. I tease him by nibbling up and down his shaft, I know it drives him crazy. I’m rewarded with his hand tightening on my neck and more pre-cum on my tongue. I moan my appreciation. I’m careful to deep throat him properly. I don’t want to gag and embarrass him. I want everyone who’s watching to see how well he’s trained me.
He fists my hair yanking my head away.
“Kneel back,” he growls.
I do as I’m told. He takes my head in both hands. I open my mouth wide. Needing no more invitation, he thrusts deep into my throat. It takes me all my time not to gag. He carries on fucking my face hard. He stops moving, pushing my head so far down that his pubic hair tickles my lips. He holds me there for a few seconds, so I can’t breathe. This time I do gag, but I’m meant to. He continues to fuck my mouth without mercy. My eyes are streaming, mascara stings my eyes as he roughly pushes my mouth down by my hair. He groans loudly as he comes. He stands back slightly, fisting his cock with his palm, filling my mouth.
“Swallow”, he commands when he’s finished.
I obey without thought, swallowing the salty liquid. Crawling over to where he has sat down to recover, I glow with pride. He looks sated. He softly strokes my hair, praising.
“That’s my good girl.”
We spend some more time drinking, talking, and dancing. It’s three in the morning and I’m feeling the effects. Not hammered but drunk enough that I don’t care anymore. My lead and the excuse for a top is in Sir’s pocket. I am bare chested and covered in glitter. I’m having the time of my life with the man I adore.
To people outside of my world, submissives are viewed as having no control. That we are slaves as such. This is a total misconception. I have full control. Everything we do, I have already given my consent. He often says that I am the one who controls him.
“Are you ready for more play, Iris?” he asks smoothly as we’re leaving the dance floor.
My lips tug into a smile. My stomach muscles clench and my nipples tighten.
“Oh yes, Sir.”
His gorgeous face arranges into a wicked grin that has me dripping like a fucking tap.
He leads me up to one of the playrooms. I swallow nervously when my eyes fall upon the metal rack that’s hanging from the ceiling.
“Stay there,” he commands, pointing to a bed, bare apart from a black rubber sheet. Above is a shelf with free condoms, hygiene wipes, and a selection of toys.
My nerves increase while I wait. I have no idea what he is planning. I’m hoping it will be the fantasy we discussed last time, but the thought also frightens the life out of me.
Five minutes later, he walks back in with a ball gag, rope, and handcuffs. He is closely followed by a good-looking well-built blonde man. My heart starts to beat double time. I swallow to gain moisture to my suddenly dry throat. Double penetration, that was last time’s fantasy…fuck.
Sir strolls confidently over, pulling me onto my feet, kissing me hard on the lips. He spins me around, pinning my arms behind me. I gasp, the metal from the handcuffs is cold against my hot skin. Reaching around, he secures a blind fold around my eyes. I’m plunged into darkness. My heart rate spikes. Suddenly, the club sounds louder as my senses adjust.
“Bend over Iris,” he orders.
I do as I’m asked.
I jump when cold liquid runs down my ass between my cheeks, gasping again when Sir’s finger slips in, lubricating me more. He pulls it out replacing his finger with the tip of a hard-cold object. I don’t need my eyes to know it’s a butt plug. He pushes the hard end into my ass, ignoring my cries of pain as it stretches my tight hole past it’s comfortable limit. I breathe a sigh of relief when it slides in.
“Well done, Angel,” he praises, giving my ass a light smack that jostles the plug in a pleasurable way. A low groan escapes my lips.
Taking me by the hand, he guides me across the room. Lifting my arms above my head; he hooks the handcuffs up onto the rack. He spreads my legs, fastening a cuff around each ankle. I feel very exposed, hanging naked, helpless and blindfolded. But I trust him.
My stomach clenches when I hear the buzz of the magic wand. I jerk when he presses the end to my aching pussy. The orgasm starts to build instantly. I can’t control it. He turns up the vibrations. He wants me to fail. My climax claims me fast and hard. There’s no stopping it. I scream in intense pleasure and frustration. He doesn’t stop; he turns it up more. Another vibrator is shoved inside me. It must be the other man. Sir has both his hands on me. Excitement and fear run through me in equal measure. My G spot is being vigorously stimulated and Sir turns the wand up to full speed. My body starts to spasm. The most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced crashes through me. It’s in every single cell in my body. I have no control. I can’t think straight. I don’t even know where I am. Cum is squirting everywhere and running down my legs. I’m having an out of body experience, floating in oblivion. I few sharp slaps against my bare pussy are enough to bring me out of it.
“What do you say, Angel?” he asks in his ever-present calm tone.
“Thank you Master,” I whimper, unable to give anything else.
When he speaks again, he’s not speaking to me.
“Her disobedience will have to be punished; don’t you agree, Brett?”
An unfamiliar voice responds.
“She came without permission. Twice. And as impressive as that little water show might have been, she still needs to learn some respect.”
“I’m sorry Sir. I had no choice.” I babble without thinking and immediately regret it.
He smacks my pussy again; this time with what feels like a crop, making me yelp.
“You had no choice? Are you blaming me for your insolence?”
There is a trace of humour in his voice; he knows it was his fault, but this is a wonderful game we play.
I shake my head playing along, “Of course not, Sir.”
“Brett, would you like to reprimand her while I go clean up a bit?”
Next time he speaks, his mouth is close to my ear.
“Do as Brett tells you. He is your master until I return.”
I lick my lips; they taste of the acute fear that’s running through my veins.
“Yes Sir,” I whisper.
Fingers clasp my jaw jerking my face up. My heart pounds frantically.
“Tye tells me that you’re a good little slut and that you will behave for me. Is that true?”
Terrified but also excited, I nod my head. “Yes, sir.”
“Good, from this moment on you do not make a sound until I tell you. Do you understand?”
“Good little slut.”
He’s quiet for about two minutes, but it feels much longer.
I feel the air move between us, giving me the heads up. I brace myself. A rough hand grabs my breast. He puts something over my nipple, a nipple pump, I think. My nipple starts to swell, getting bigger with each pump. I mash my lips together to stop from whimpering. He pulls it off attaching a clamp to the hardened swollen bud. I nearly break but squeeze my lips tighter instead. He repeats the routine on my other side. My nipples start to ache from being squeezed in the peg-like device, but I don’t complain. I want to be obedient. I don’t want to let down my Sir.
Brett starts with the crop inside my thighs, lightly tapping but soon increasing.
He swats my pussy hard, making me yelp. Shit.
I wait with bated breath for his response.
My mouth is forced open and the ball gag is pushed in and fastened at the back. Saliva instantly starts to pool, dripping out of my open mouth.
He puts something smooth in my hand.
“If you need a safe word, drop this. Do you understand?”
I nod, he smooths my saliva around my face. I’m helpless to his degradation.
I expect him to go back to the crop. I jump, screaming a muffled cry when he cains my still raw ass.
Tears stream down my face, while he cains my thighs, my stomach, and finally, my aching breasts.
I scream, very nearly using my safe word when he taps the clamps on my tender and sore nipples.
“Good job Brett.” The relief that runs through my body when I hear Sir’s voice is indescribable.
His warm hands unshackle my ankles before unhooking me from the ceiling. He takes off the ball gag and wipes my face with a wipe. He removes the blindfold and kisses my puffy eyelids.
“I’m proud of you. You have pleased me.” His praise fills my heart, making all the pain worth it.
After he lovingly cleans me up, he takes me by the cuffs and leads me to the bed. Bending down behind me, he pulls out the butt plug, making me wince. He covers my raw ass with sweet kisses, before spinning me around and burying his mouth in my pussy.
My back arches. Brett is behind me. The contact stuns me, I jump. Sir looks up, his lips wet and glossy from my arousal.
“It’s okay Angel. Relax.” I do as I’m told, leaning back. Brett tugs on the chain from the clamps. I cry out as pain shoots through my now purple nipples. My blood-curdling scream fills the air as he pulls them off in one sweep. He bends around me sucking each one into his warm mouth, soothing the pain and turning it instantly into intense pleasure. I moan gratefully.
Sir’s tongue licks delicately over my clit while he spreads my pussy lips open with his hands. With Brett’s tongue circling my nipple, it’s nothing short of heaven. When I’m close, Sir stops, smirking at my pouty lips.
“You never have enough of coming do you Angel?”
My tone is rough and full of longing, “Never, Sir.”
He smiles, kissing me roughly, before moving around and sitting on the bed. He rolls a dark colored condom over his shaft. I lick my lips, desperate for him.
He hooks his finger in a come here gesture. Everything inside me tingles; he’s so fucking sexy. I certainly don’t need telling twice. I straddle him sinking down onto his solid erection, moaning in delight as he fills me. I start to rock my hips smoothly against him, enjoying the sensations deep in my muscles as they squeeze his cock tight.
He groans placing his hands on my hips moving me quicker. I had almost forgotten about Brett until his cool hands rest on my back. I flinch when he squirts a cool lube between my ass cheeks. Hot adrenalin spikes. Sir sits up so we’re chest to chest. He lifts my ass, fucking me slowly. He takes my tongue in his mouth sucking it in time with his thrusts.
“Trust me Iris,” he whispers against my parted lips. I relax at his words.
Brett positions himself at the entrance to my ass. Sir lays back and I move forward, giving Brett better access.
He slowly pushes his cock against my tight hole. My ass puts up a resistance but then with a pop I feel it give in. Brett slides in, stretching me. I feel grateful to the butt plug; Brett’s got some girth. He starts off slowly. I don’t realise I’m holding my breath until Sir says, “Breathe Iris,” I let it out and focus on my Sir’s deep chocolate eyes.
They both start to move. Holy shit the feeling is sensational. I’ve never felt so full. I throw my head back against Brett and let myself go. They both fuck me like a whore and I fucking love it. They fuck me until I’m sore and screaming.
My breath is coming in short gasps; I’m dripping with sweat.
“Please Master, can I come?” I beg again and again.
Finally, he says, “Come for us slut,” I lose control completely climaxing epically. Screaming.
“Thank you, Master,” over and over.
Brett moans a long, drawn out moan, pulls out, and comes in short hot spurts up my back. Sir flips me over, smacks my ass and pounds into me from behind. I grip the bed tightly to receive his onslaught. His fingers dig into my skin. He shudders, then stills. I smile, enjoying the deep throb of his climax.
It’s daylight when we leave the club. I lean against Sir on the way home
“Thank you for tonight Sir,” I mumble through my orgasm-induced haze.
He drops a kiss on my head. “You’re welcome.”
He opens the cab door for me, taking my hand, and pulling me out. I’ll be glad to get these boots off. Now, the night is over. The only things left screaming are the soles of my feet.
Sir walks ahead, up the garden path. He takes out a key and unlocks the front door, holding it aside for me to enter first.
He follows, shutting the door behind him. I take off my boots, relishing the aftercare that my hallway carpet is giving my feet right now.
I turn; his mocha eyes watch me intently. Reaching out, he pulls me into his arms, encasing me in his safe embrace. He brushes his lips delicately against mine. Our tongues dance together in perfect sync. He tastes divine. He gently sucks my bottom lip before pulling away slightly.
“Happy Valentines, my beautiful wife.
“It has been a very happy Valentines, indeed,” I smirk.
“Until next time, Angel, he whispers, smirking cheekily back.
I smile widely, leading my incredible husband up to bed.