Flash Fiction: A Wedding Party

Here’s my 500-word contribution for this week’s Masturbation Monday (#280) featuring the lovely and hardworking Marie Rebelle—hostess of The Smut Marathon and sex blog, Rebel’s Notes. Still, I did get an assist from another writing prompt as well…just to mix things up a bit. Get the deets below.


The Story Behind the Story

I’ll start by saying that Ms. Marie Rebelle’s image was more than enough to inspire the storyline I opted to go with this week. (If you haven’t clicked on the MM link above to see what I’m talking about…you should.)

However, as an added challenge, I used a 10-word writing prompt—taken from a Discord server I follow and whose random words had to be used in the exact order they had been presented in the challenge—to help shape the naughty tale below. I didn’t highlight the words this time. But, let’s see if we might have a little fun with that…

►► Reader Challenge:Can you pick-out the 10 prompted words I used?
Leave your guess in the comments below, and I will let you know which words you guessed correctly. After a few days, I will update the story and bold-italicize which 10 words were borrowed from the writing prompt. 

I tried to make the prompted words inconspicuous. Still, some were harder than other to blend in seamlessly the tale I wove. Perhaps you’ll pick them out, but I hope not. 

A Wedding Party

I’d not recoup my dignity after today. As it was, I could only stare at the spilt mango chutney on the table near my head and accept what was happening. Clanking dinnerware and scoffing jeers accompanied the force of my husband’s thrusts from the moment Ryan leaned me over the table, lifted my dress, and began to fuck me in the hotel banquet room…right in front of all our guests.

“Look at her…she has to be so humiliated right now,” I heard an unknown woman say. “Do you think she’ll be one of those divorce filers who claim ‘irreconcilable differences’ before the honeymoon’s over?”

Everyone laughed. So did Ryan, whose variability in fucking demonstrated that I didn’t have his full attention, despite moving relentlessly within my cum-starved hole. Intermittent laughter filled the space between my panted breaths until I began to moan, which was when he pulled out of me abruptly.

“You don’t get to come yet, slut. Now clean your juice off my cock. Then go back to our room and get in your cage.”

I lowered myself and took his tangy thickness deeply into my mouth while the guests continued to taunt me. Many of my persecutors were Ryan’s lovers. Most of them were jealous he’d chosen me over them. So, I took my time sucking him clean—slowly, lovingly—making sure I removed every trace of me.

Ryan caressed my cheek when I finished, and I smiled up at him. At his signal, I left as commanded. Our guests would finish the meal without me, though Ryan would hand-feed me later—after everything wound down. Until then, I’d be able to contemplate the day’s events from the solitude of my cage.

Soon enough, they’d all return to the suite. I’d no doubt they’d be naked within minutes and springing upon Ryan’s rampant erection one after the other—at least that’s usually what happened at the orgy-like parties I was no longer allowed to attend. But I’d still hear everything.

Ryan instructed me to leave the bedroom door open this time…considering it was a special day. I was even instructed to wait until I heard the tell-tale sounds of his impending orgasm before I was allowed to cum too. No one knew he was such a softy…despite his stern demeanor.

It’s just as well my family opted not to attend; they’d disliked Ryan from the beginning. Nothing about today would change that. Still, they had no idea how much I enjoyed being my Master’s slave. They already thought I suffered from some sort of brain abnormality, but he really wasn’t the cur they thought him to be.

I was the real monster—a raving nympho who was out of control—until I found a man who knew how to curb my self-destructive behavior through discipline and sexual deprivation. Sure, it wasn’t the kind of wedding reception a typical bride dreamed about. But, I had never been typical…nor more content. I looked forward to many years of happiness and horniness. ■   (507 words)


Beatrix_B | The Pink Seam © 2020

Masturbation Monday is a long-standing, weekly writing meme hosted by Kayla Lords.  Want to join in and share your smutty tales and sexy perspectives? Read the rules here!


Micro-Fiction: Santa’s Other Dancer

Just a little something short and sweet that I whipped up for this week’s Masturbation Monday (#277) featuring a festive image from My Controlled Ascent, the website of talented erotica writer, Kisungura. 


“You’ll sing whatever tune I tell you to.” Sir stood, inspecting his ropework while undoing his belt and fly.

During our struggle, he’d torn the sexy reindeer costume he’d insisted we girls wear during the holiday performance. The cord’s tension was tighter than usual where it wound around my torso and over my clit. To my shame, the rope darkened from my dampness.

Earlier, I’d challenged him in front of the other submissives: “You can’t make me like Christmas songs!” Now, I’d happily be shown the error of my ways.

“Dasher, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen, and Rudy…you all are free to go. Santa needs to teach this reindeer to dance merrily to his tune.” ■

(117 words)


Beatrix_B | The Pink Seam © 2019

Masturbation Monday is a long-standing, weekly writing meme hosted by Kayla Lords.  Want to join in and share your smutty tales and sexy perspectives? Read the rules here!


A Cuckold’s Christmas Carol

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas at Masturbation Monday (#276)! Well, perhaps the naughty version of it, if this week’s prompt—featuring ‘Little Gem’ from the website Purple’s Gem—is any indication. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this little tale/tail of Christmas cheer for one and all. 😉 ~ B.


That first winter that Carol grew antlers, my marriage—and the life I’d lived as the ‘head of household’—took a big nose-dive. But as my nose ended up in some very interesting places, when all was said and one, it all wasn’t necessarily a bad thing…or so I was to learn.

From the moment those cervine bones emerged from my wife’s long brunette waves, she developed a foul temper that seemed to be directed specifically at me. I had to start wearing turtlenecks and long-sleeve shirts, the ones Carol laughed at me for bringing with us when we moved to California from New York. I could explain away new bruises by saying I’d taken up rugby. But, the bite marks were another thing altogether.

Then there was the endless fucking. It was as if she were in rut season the second Christmas merchandise hit the stores. It got to the point that I couldn’t even get hard for her anymore. Not because I didn’t find her attractive; she was even more stunning and vivacious than I’d ever know her to be. But, she’d managed to wear me out, which brought on the cruel taunts and nicknames as well as her making fun of me in front of my friends.

“If you can’t use it to fuck me, I might as well lock up that useless dick of yours, Tiny Tim,” she said, turning my name into a joke. God, the humiliation was unbearable, especially when she started seeking out my friends and coworkers to satisfy her insatiable need for sex.

I’ll admit…I didn’t take it well in the beginning. Carol would fuck anyone who would so much as wished her ‘Happy Holidays’. Still, I have to admit…it was a bit of a relief when I didn’t have to satisfy her anymore. Her ferocious temper eventually transformed into a voracious hunger for sex…that she’d turn to others to fill her up.

It was difficult not to watch her spread her legs and share her special brand of Christmas cheer with one and all—mainly because it made me so hard to watch her do it. She insisted that I watch her take cock after cock inside her, after posting ads for gang-bangs on various sex sites. Before long, I developed a taste for it, learned to hunger—not cry—over the freshly spilled milk that would leak down her legs afterwards.

Then…she grew a tail…as if the antlers weren’t enough. This tail wasn’t like the tails on the end of the butt plugs I used to insist she wear years ago for me when playing as my pet ‘Kitty’ or ‘Bunny’. No, her tail was firmer, like a fur-covered, meaty bone, which she’d stroke like a dick when she was really turned on.

I can’t tell you how many times I’d find her showing it off to strangers or letting any curious hand up her skirt to touch it. She even stopped wearing panties so that she could flash it at will in public, then would laugh at my mortification.

Many came from far and wide to marvel at her tail. She became known as the Rein-Domme in certain smutty circles, which she enjoyed, as she got off on her new popularity. She was often the center of attention at all the festive parties we threw each year for swingers, gangbangs, and orgies—all of which I wasn’t allowed to join in. On those evenings, she’d look like a dirty little angel, sitting low in her favorite chair before our fireplace—exposing all of her fur-trimmed holes for all to see—and would make herself come over and over by jerking her tail as she fingered herself in a glorious fashion that would end in wonderous applause by those who were waiting their turn to warm their chestnuts.

Looking back, It was funny how I never used to like the holidays. But now, that time of year has new meaning for me. I can’t wait for Carol’s antlers to re-emerge and for her gang-bangs to grow even bigger than the year before. In anticipation for the exciting winter months ahead, I couldn’t help thinking, God bless us…and everyone who comes. ■

(707 words)


Beatrix_B | The Pink Seam © 2019

Masturbation Monday is a long-standing, weekly writing meme hosted by Kayla Lords.  Want to join in and share your smutty tales and sexy perspectives? Read the rules here!


Short-Fiction: Carside Pickup

The image prompt for Masturbation Monday (#257)—provided by Mx Nillin—fondly reminds me of the kind of sex I miss out on as a singleton. However, the rather lengthy story I wrote this week also served as a reminder that although I don’t have ‘a bird in hand’…I can have a ‘hand in bush’. 😉 ~ B.


“So…are you going to show me how you jerk off or what?”

I felt kind of stalkerish leaning against Danny’s car, waiting for his shift to end at the 24-diner where he worked as a short-order cook. The highlight of my weekend was sitting across from him at the counter, flirting mercilessly.

I’d be the first to admit that things had gotten a bit out of hand when masturbation came up in conversation. But, the diner had been pretty dead, and we huddled off to ourselves—separated by my ignored plate of cheese fries—and spoke in hushed voices.

When I asked to watch him masturbate some time, his response had been the smug retort,  “Anytime…any place, sweetheart!”

Seeing his surprised response to my bold question, I doubt he thought I’d ever take him up on his offer.

“You mean that wasn’t just sexy banter—you were serious!”

Danny was a tall, lanky guy, not the type I usually found attractive. He wasn’t handsome, but he was funny in a self-depreciating way that was cute. He also had a wicked wit and dirty mind that resulted in double entendres delivered with a cocky smirk.

“I was serious then…and I’m serious now, I said, leaning back against his passenger side, displaying my breasts to their best advantage. He was interested, even if a bit uncertain. Gone were his trademark smirks and relaxed vibe.

“What?! You want me to whip out my cock and go at it right here in the parking lot?” He was a bit incredulous, but his hand went to his fly as he looked around, checking for witnesses.

It was 3 a.m. The parking lot was empty. He was probably going to do it if I didn’t stop him.

“Not this time. Why don’t you take me for a ride instead?”

Hours before, Danny had been calm and collected as he explained how he planned to go home and edge as long as he could stand it. I listened with rapt interest, as I was turned on beyond belief. If his admiring gaze was any indication, he knew it. A quick look down showed my nipples jutting out from my pink tee shirt. I was glad I’d decided to go braless tonight.

Danny spared no detail—sharing the kind of porn he preferred, how he liked to sit, how he held his cock. I grew wet with every sentence he uttered in hushed tones. Danny was just as aroused…if the obvious bulge under his apron was any indication. My mouth became dry as I watched his hand slowly moved over it.

And then a bunch of rowdy college students slammed into the diner, ruining the moment and sending Danny back into the kitchen.

I was quite horny when I set off for home and could think of little else other than Danny slowly stroking his cock in the way he’d described. To be honest, I had every intention of going home and getting off myself, but then I thought about how he’d said anytime, any place…which is how I ended up waiting for his shift to end and for him to answer my question.

“Yeah…okay.” He moved quickly then, as if to open my door before I changed my mind. I’m sure he didn’t get many offers to watch him work his meat outside of the diner…especially not from bossy brunettes with big tits.

Shutting the door after me, he got in on his side and looked me over. The interior light revealed that my too short skirt had lost its battle to contain my tanned, toned thighs, which left my bare legs on display.

“Do you like what you see?”

“Of course I do.”

“Good. You can think of me as a substitute…since you won’t have your porn to inspire you. But, I’m not taking my close off.”

“You being here is inspiration enough,” he said. His voice had gone hoarse. He cleared his throat, “I’m okay with you keeping your clothes on. That’s… kind of hot, actually.” He was looking at my tits when he spoke, and I watched his cock strain against his jeans.

“Glad to hear it!” I smiled in return and looked down at his package. “Now, it’s my turn to say I like what I see. But, I want to see more. Let’s get outta here.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Any lonely road will do.” I smiled. He did his best to adjust his raging hard-on and started the engine.

It didn’t take long for him to find a secluded spot. Even less time to unzip and pull down his jeans and his boxer briefs at my bidding. His cock made a thick, meaty sound as it sprang back and hit his abdomen in his haste. I checked my mouth to make sure I wasn’t drooling.

He was of average size, straight, and meticulously shaved. But, I was especially drawn to his dusky glans, that seemed to grow more bulbous as I stared. I couldn’t help imagining what he’d feel like sliding into my wet pussy. I didn’t try to stifle my low growl, which resulted in him pulsing his cock under my appreciative gaze.

“Holy shit,” he said, tensing, “I think I could come hands-free from you just staring at me and growling like that.”

“I can’t help it. That has to be the sexiest cock I’ve ever seen. If ever there was a cock meant to be admired…it’s yours. I could stare at it for hours.” That was a lie. If I stared at it much longer, I was likely to climb on top of him so that I could feel his swollen head stretch me.

“Shit…if you keep saying things like that, you are going to make me come. Can I stroke for you now…please.”

“Yes.” Within minutes of speaking the words, his left hand went to work on his dick. His fingers shook a bit at first. I imagined it was from a mixture of nervousness and excitement. But, once he got going, there wasn’t anything hesitant about his smooth, slow movements as he used his pointer, middle finger, and thumb to glide up and down his shaft and occasionally rubbing just under his wide head.

My breathing matched his as I watched him and took in the musky smell of his pre-cum within the close confines of his car. Soon, my wetness coated my flimsy panties and oozed beyond to moisten my inner-thighs. My musky scent joined his, filling the car’s interior with the scent of sex.

“Jesus, I can smell how hot this is making you,” he said, leaning in closer towards me, his hand continuing to move over his flesh. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to last much longer.” He stopped stroking then, but I could see that he was so close.

He thought to edge longer and put on a show for me. But, I didn’t want him to back off. I needed to see his cum shoot out of him. I wanted to hear his grunts moments before his spunk glazed his chest. I wanted to smell the sharp scent of a man well-satisfied…and I wanted it now.

“No, don’t stop. I want you to come for me—I need you to come for me right now…or I’m going to lose it.” My tone was brisk and demanding due to my heightened state of arousal, but he didn’t seem to mind. He simply did as he was told, this time using his right hand.

He moved quicker now, knowing that the end was near. Without even realizing what I was doing, I began to clench my thighs together and writhe in my seat as his impending orgasm grew near.

“God, watching you is making me so fucking turned on,” I said as the pulsing pressure of my thighs squeezed in against my swollen clit. “But, I want you to come now so I can come with you.”

The desperation in my voice must have sent him over the edge because he came then. His breath caught and his head flew back before he shouted his release, amplified by the car’s interior. Thick ropes of cum spurted out of his cock landing on his shirt and on the driver’s side window. Moments later I felt my own orgasm ripped through my clenched thighs, robbing me of words. As I gasped for air,  I could feel the warm liquid from my orgasm spilling onto his car seat. He was going to have to clean up my cum.

That thought had me smiling into the silence as we both recovered…and then my stomach growled. Danny laughed. “Yeah, you didn’t touch your cheese fries earlier. I guess you were hungry for something else.”

“I suppose I was,” I replied, still smiling as I basked in the waves of dopamine coursing through my body. My stomach growled again…louder this time. “Apparently, I still am. I could go for ‘seconds’.” He laughed again.

“God, I love how greedy you are. How ‘bout I make you breakfast. Then we can talk about seconds.”

“As long as I get to order curbside again.” ■

(1,523 words)


Beatrix_B | The Pink Seam © 2019

Masturbation Monday is a long-standing, weekly writing meme hosted by Kayla Lords.  Want to join in and share your smutty tales and sexy perspectives? Read the rules here!


Micro-Fiction: Shelly

Wow…it’s been a while since I’ve participated at Masturbation Monday (#253) . However, the lovely image—provided by a frequent ‘tweeter’ I follow who goes by The Other Me —held so much story potential. I went with the first thought that came to mind. How fitting that it happened to be a ‘tongue twister’. (Check out the image to get the joke!) I hope you enjoy my little naughty ‘drabble’.


She sold her seashell by the seashore, a decision resulting from her husband’s boat never returning to dock. Her prized possession was her milky-white conch whose large, pink interior was fingered often and filled with brine by the many sailors who came to port.

Her husband resented her shell, forced by manliness to never acknowledge how he’d wished a shell of his own. His cruelty grated as he insisted hers was worth a dime a dozen. Yet, her wares brought in much more bounty than his fishing boat ever did…which is why she made sure it capsized at sea. ■

(100 words)


Beatrix_B | The Pink Seam © 2019

Masturbation Monday is a long-standing, weekly writing meme hosted by Kayla Lords.  Want to join in and share your smutty tales and sexy perspectives? Read the rules here!


Flash Fiction: The Hunter

Writing prompts provided by
Masturbation Monday (#221) and Friday Flash (#33)

Composite Images: @sexblogofsorts, @more_matters, and Pexel.

Love was the only four-letter word Maven vowed never to speak, despite having named her sex club ‘AMOUR’.  She’d been in love once—or thought she had been. Looking back, she still wasn’t sure.

She’d traveled to Europe to further her religious studies, but found herself skipping class to visit museums. That was how she met Michael.

With the face of an angel and a devil’s charm, he’d been a patient hunter, showering her with words, wine, and candlelight. Well-studied in rhetoric, he plied his skill in a similar manner that pastors mesmerized congregations—except Michael peddled sin as salvation. He’d teased and seduced until on a cold winter’s evening, he hadn’t even needed the hotel room he’d reserved.

He fucked her in an alley against a rusted rail, like a common street whore, and she’d loved every second of it. He’d released her inner bad-girl that night, transformed her with every thrust of his cock.

She’d been so ready for him that her sex should have steamed when he lifted her dress and tore a hole in her tights to reveal her naked and shaven beneath. He didn’t hesitate to sink his fingers into her syrupy warmth.


“God, woman, you are so wet. There’s no better kind of condensation than this,” he whispered as her loud moans and dirty words floated into the night’s sky.

“Oh…fuck! Don’t stop! Shit…damn…fuck…!” She said, pouting profanities with each thrust. She became the carnal creature she’d hid in the shadows of herself as he pumped two fingers inside her, slowly stretching her. Like a snake, she felt herself shed her skin as he gently ruptured her hymen.

The snowflakes kissed her eyes while he took her mouth, his tongue mimicking his fingers as their breath mingled, melting the snow on her cheeks that mixed with her tears of elation.

“I’ve been dying to do this from the moment I saw you primly standing before that Rodin with raw passion transforming your face.” His voice was rougher now as he turned her, forcing her to bend over the rail.

There was the sound of his zipper then she felt his hard shaft replace his fingers, splitting her, finding her molten core as he took her from behind. His nearness blocked most of the cold as he pumped slowly within her body.

Through squinted eyes, she watched as puffs of water vapor left her lungs laced with words that belied the depravity in her soul. Every wanton aspect was perfectly aligned as her first orgasm shot through her body.

“That’s it…come for me?” She did…over and over in waves as he’d rubbed the pulsing nubbin of flesh at the crest of her sex.

Michael awakened a beast that night. One so powerful, that he alone could not feed it…or tame it. There were other men…other women, but never love. It was lust that fueled her shadowed-self and taught her how to hunt…leaving Michael out in the cold. ■

(500 words)


Beatrix_B | The Pink Seam © 2018

Masturbation Monday is a long-standing, weekly writing meme hosted by Kayla Lords.  Want to join in and share your smutty tales and sexy perspectives? Read the rules here!


Friday Flash is a weekly writing meme hosted by F. Leonora Solomon and dedicated to flash fiction romance and erotica. Read the rules, join in, and share your flash!


Connected Dots

The spider web image prompt for this Masturbation Monday (#215) meme threw me for a bit of loop. It was very appropriate for October, but I didn’t understand the sexual reference at first. Thankfully, the intro explained that the web is the result of some creatively kinky ‘needle play’. Though that’s not something I’m into personally, I do appreciate Sub Bee sharing her sexy adventures with the rest of us needle-wary kinksters. Hopefully, the micro story below demonstrates…I got the point. 😉 Enjoy! ~B.


She sat still on the chair as Sir connected the dots between pleasure and pain—in her mind and on the surface of her skin. She’d endure the shallow needle pricks, knowing the chaos of each contradictory sensation brought her closer to orgasmic bliss. Sir’s web had caught the fly…and would set her free. ■

(55 words)


Beatrix_B | The Pink Seam © 2018

Masturbation Monday is a long-standing, weekly writing meme hosted by Kayla Lords.  Want to join in and share your smutty tales and sexy perspectives? Read the rules here!



Friday Flash No. 26 – Tentacles: When writing at Friday Flash, you never know what kind of image prompt you might get. So, why was I shocked to see an octopus mural for this week’s prompt?!
Here’s my micro-fiction attempt at making mollusks sexy. Enjoy! ~Beatrix_B 



Robin obsessed over three things: the number eight, graffiti art, and sucking cock.

Having found a way to combine her compulsions, she painted the last set of suction cups onto the graffitied mollusk to immortalized the eight cocks she’d recently sucked off. She grew wet remembering the creamy offerings that splattered her flesh like warm paint as she counted all the other ‘cups’ on the image depicting twenty-feet of tentacles.

Only Robin knew why pink octopuses adorned buildings all over the city. She’d need a new location to paint tonight—she’d a date with another eight at 8:38 p.m. ■  (100 words)


2018 © Beatrix_B | @ThePinkSeam

From Image to Story Idea

FF-tentacles2aThe beauty of Ms. Solomon’s Friday Flash image prompts is that she doesn’t explain them. Therefore each writer has the challenge of coming up with their own interpretations when writing a story.

I’ll be the first to admit—I don’t find octopuses (and, yes…that is the correct spelling of the plural form) very sexy.

My only exposure to this sea creature has been during my travels across the north of Spain—they are surprisingly delicious when prepared correctly. So, I had to really use creative thinking to breakdown elements within the image that would trigger a story idea that would work as erotica and make use of the prompt.

It was the idea of ‘suction cups’ that sparked the idea of fellatio (for obvious reasons). Then the thought of a highly-sexual woman being obsessed with blowjobs—and being covered in ejaculation—that merged with the idea of Arithmomania, an obsessive-compulsive fixation with numbers, calculations and/or the need to count objects or one’s actions.

Being as octopuses have 8 tentacles, it made sense that my horny graffiti artist should have a thing for that number. Then the crux of the plot came together…

What if the graffiti artist had the compulsion to record each time she engaged in the sexual act by painting suction cups on the tentacles of a graffitied octopus mural? What if there were several of such paintings around her city commemorating her exploits? 

And…voila! A story was born.

The challenging part was executing it as micro-fiction in 100-words.

Friday Flash is a weekly writing meme hosted by F. Leonora Solomon and dedicated to flash fiction romance and erotica. Read the rules, join in, and share your flash!


How Did I Do?

Did you enjoy the story…or reading about how it was inspired? If so, I’d love to hear your thoughts about it. So, leave a few comments below!

His Favorite Girl

Friday Flash No. 24 – Worth the Wait: The lovely Ms. F. Lenora has allowed me to provide a micro/flash prompt challenge this week at Friday Flash. As this kind of short fiction falls squarely in my wheelhouse, I’ve contributed a few  short-form erotic stories on the theme. Enjoy! ~Beatrix_B 

fav girl

The title of the painting is His Favorite Girl by Scottish painter, Jack Vettriano. There was something very overt, yet mysterious about this image that lent itself well as an erotic prompt for a micro/flash fiction writing challenge.

Considering all who’ve taken up the gauntlet, I’m happy to see that others agreed.

Artist: Jack Vettriano, His Favorite Girl,  (oil on canvas)

Birthday Surprise

She posed seductively for my husband, half-dressed and wet from my fingers. He’d hadn’t suspected that, nor any of the surprises that awaited him. I hadn’t revealed that my appetite for hot snatch was just as strong as my craving for hard cock. I knew he’d like my present, even though it was my birthday.  ■  (55 words)


One Tough Customer

Anger radiated off me in billows like that from his cigarette. He knew smoking was the only act prohibited in my cathouse—my girls breathed heavy for a living. If he weren’t the police chief and the only man who could top me, I’d put it out on the same tongue I’d orgasm upon afterward.  ■  (55 words)


Goad Digger

“You needed a comparison…so look, goddammit!” Her tone was curt, but her erect nipples showed through black lace. He’d savor those hard pebbles of flesh in his mouth if all went as planned.

“Her body is better.” She recoiled as if slapped.

“Well, she can’t fuck as well as I can!”

“Really? Prove it!” ■  (55 words)



There was no doubt that her client was guilty. Still, she’d only one card left to play when she visited the judge’s chambers late that night. As she stood before him in bra and panties, she expected to go over every inch of his penal code orally, until he came to the right conclusion. ■  (55 words)


2018 © Beatrix_B | @ThePinkSeam

Friday Flash is a weekly writing meme hosted by F. Leonora Solomon and dedicated to flash fiction romance and erotica. Read the rules, join in, and share your flash!


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“Succubus Unbound”

I’ve posted a new story on Medium…

But, Medium doesn’t really allow readers to leave comments in a convenient way, so feel free to leave your comments here while I transition to this WordPress site!

There’s something about October and this week’s Masturbation Monday (#213) image prompt that called for the penning of this dark tale. I like stories that depict things that are not quite as they seem. Hopefully, you’ll get that impression as you read this story…when you realize who’s ‘zooming who.’ Enjoy!~B.

“If I tie this any tighter, it’ll cut off your circulation. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

His deep voice boomed in the closed space, but he was deep in thought, as if reciting something he’d memorized. I knew he wasn’t speaking to me. I was gagged, blindfolded, naked, and soon to be bound. It wasn’t as if I could respond.

Still, I questioned his judgement; if anything, the bindings weren’t tight enough. For someone like me, too tight wasn’t a ‘thing’. But, he wouldn’t have known that. He wanted a victim, and I wanted to looked the part convincingly.

The blindfold effectively robbed me of my sight. But, I didn’t need to see to know how this all would end. Besides, my other senses were just as strong, just as reliable.

It was him who should have been worried. Daryl was big and burly, and very smart considering he spent a lot of time developing his body. He’d been a bully all his life, but deep down was nothing but a hurt little boy who once wouldn’t hurt a fly. Somewhere along the way, that changed.


 *   *   *   *  *

►► Read the rest of the story here.

Did you enjoy the story? Leave your comments below!