How to eroticize anything: moving edition, with free BDSM erotica story

18 Sep

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

I don’t know about you, but I hate moving. Hate it with a passion, all the more so after having moved three times in the last three years. In some ways, it’s gotten easier, especially because the first moved involved clearing out my Brooklyn apartment of 13 years and hiring a trash removal service, which was both expensive and humiliating, but even the subsequent moves have been stressful and the antithesis of erotica.

movingboxes
what my house looked like during my last move; definitely not sexy!

Which brings me to what I hope is inspiration for those of you sitting there thinking, “I really want to write some smut but have nothing to write about.” I firmly believe that you can eroticize anything, whether it’s love, death, war, politics or, yes, moving. While I was in the midst of moving mania, I found myself thinking about a very hot mover I met when a friend left her jacket with him and I collected it for her. His voice was the kind that could make me melt, and even though in person he wasn’t my usual type, if I’d been single I would definitely have tried to at least get him to whisper in my ear. Plus, he didn’t fit my own preconceived idea of what a mover would look like: big and bulky. He was shorter and thinner and had far more tattoos than I would have expected. That made me even more attracted to him.

So while I can’t report hooking up with him, I can share this story, which hasn’t appeared anywhere else, inspired by all my moves. I’ll leave you with this: next time you find yourself in a situation that makes you want to cry, like my moves did, see how you can turn that on its head and make it sexy as hell. I wrote about the move I wished I could have had (or the post-move afterglow, if you will), and it made the process just a little easier to handle.

DirtyDates_approved

If you like this story, I’ve got plenty more sexy BDSM erotica about kinky couples in Dirty Dates: Erotic Fantasies for Couples, which pubs on my 40th birthday, November 10th. To find out more about my books and events, please subscribe to my newsletter at my website.

Indoor Voices
by Rachel Kramer Bussel

I never thought I’d be the type of woman to wear a ball gag. I don’t mean to say I’m not kinky—I’m as kinky as you can get, and no one knows that better than my husband, Dominick (yes, my guy’s nickname is Dom, and it suits him to a T). What I mean is that I’m a screamer, a yeller, the kind of loud-mouthed brat who gets taken across my husband’s knee for a spanking at a party when I’ve been a little too loose with private details about our bedroom antics. That was last year at our neighbors’ holiday party; “If you don’t mind blabbing our business, you won’t mind them seeing you get spanked.” Oh, I struggled and cursed and pouted and even cried a little, but we both knew I loved every minute of it. I’m sure nobody was too surprised to learn I like getting spanked.

Making noise is part of our foreplay—and our during-play. Bantering with Dom, being bratty or lusty, sometimes egging him on, sometimes simply showing and telling him exactly how much I’m enjoying whatever I’m doing, is part of the fun. Or it was, anyway, in our old neighborhood, where we didn’t care about those who might judge us. Since then, I took a new job several states away, and Dom transferred offices. One of the adjustments was that, with a higher cost of living, we couldn’t afford a big sprawling house, one where our nearest neighbors were close enough if we needed anything, but far enough away they weren’t privy to every time I begged, sobbed and shrieked.

Instead of a house with a basement dungeon, we found a cozy apartment—it even has a fireplace! The one thing it doesn’t have, though, are thick enough walls to muffle our noises. We learned this the hard way, when, in the middle of Dom beating me with our favorite paddle while I counted loudly (we were up to “twelve, thank you, sir”), there was a knock at the door. When I answered it, our new neighbor Holly looked at me with concern. “Beth, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great. We’re just…” I paused before improvising, “installing something.” Why I’d need to count during this act, I wasn’t sure, but I hoped Holly would let it slide. She didn’t look like she entirely believed me, but she reluctantly dropped it, leaving me with my heart pounding in an entirely different way than it had while Dom struck my ass. Now, I have a headful of bright burgundy hair, five earrings in one ear and three in the other, and enough metal to set off the detector at the airport every time. I’m not the type of woman who expects everyone to like me or generally cares what people think. But there’s a difference between being independent and wanting to make sure my neighbors aren’t practically a part of my sex life because they’ve overheard every intimate moment.

“Look, I don’t care that much, but if you want to make sure your screams don’t have the police knocking on our door, we’ll have to improvise. I don’t mind keeping your mouth occupied.” He pulled me close for a big kiss, the kind where his tongue invaded my mouth so fully I had no room to breathe or even think. “You be quiet as you can today, and tomorrow you’ll get a reward.”

I’m feisty and occasionally bratty, but I like to earn Dom’s praise, a treat that never gets old. He knows how to reward me in a way that makes every part of me purr. So I took my paddling, with a few extra smacks for causing us to be interrupted, as silently as I could. Whenever I wanted to scream, I bit down into the softness of our pillowcase. I found that while it didn’t come naturally to me, keeping quiet actually turned me on even more. Maybe all that energy I’d gotten used to releasing via my voice got channeled inward, or maybe it knowing that I was obeying Dom was enough. By the time he spread me out, placed a vibrator in my hand, then turned it on to high and had me hold it to my clit before fucking me extra hard, I was happy to bite my lip as my arousal built and built into an orgasm that almost squeezed his cock out of me. When he was close, he took the toy from my hand, easily turned it off and set it aside, then made sure my focus was on the feel of him fucking me. My breath sounded extra loud in my ears as I thrust my hips upward to meet him. When he came, his own low groan was music to my ears.

True to his word, Dom found a way to make keeping quiet not a chore, but a delight—not to mention one that made me instantly wet. Never think you’ve seen everything, at least, not with a guy like Dom, because when he came home from work the next day, his gift was one that kept on giving. “Do you want your present, girl?” When I nodded my head, my ponytail bobbing (he likes that hairstyle for easy access to leading me around), he pushed my shoulders down. Like a good sub, I sank to my knees, sitting so my shoulders were rounded, my breasts thrust forward. Of course I was naked—that’s a given in our home, unless I’m told otherwise.

He patted my hair, looked me deep in the eyes, then slapped my right cheek, hard enough to sting. I let out the quietest of whimpers, tears forming in my eyes. Dom doesn’t slap me very often, so when he does, it makes my whole body come alive, eager for more. Getting slapped stirs my deepest masochism, making endorphins fly every which way. It also makes my mouth and pussy wetter than I even have words for, which was good, because after a few more searing whacks of his hand against my sensitive skin, the next thing I knew, he was holding a black silicone penis gag in front of my face. I’d seen, but never used, a ball gag, but a penis gag?

You might think that because it has the word “gag” in it this toy is something to laugh at, like penis pasta, but you’d be wrong. It was no laughing matter when the slick black toy cockhead was presented to me. I didn’t pause or protest, but simply did what I always do when Dom puts a cock in my face—I opened my mouth and sucked. Dom quickly fastened the Velcro behind my head, then returned to smile down at me. “That’ll keep you quiet, my love. Bang on the floor three times if you need to safeword.” I nodded.

By “floor,” he literally meant the wood of our entryway, where we could easily be heard by anyone passing by, he took me over his lap. Dom had also bought a new paddle. I didn’t look behind me to see what it was made of, but I knew it was new from the way it felt against my ass.

Uncharacteristically, Dom went lightly at first, which lulled me into a sense of complacency. Just as he’d built a rhythm that was almost hypnotic, I felt a harsh, severe blow. I couldn’t help the moan that bubbled up from deep inside, but it had nowhere to go, trapped against the gag. I sucked harder and harder as the blows landed one atop another—literally. He didn’t alternate cheeks, but rather gave me several smacks in one spot before finding another.

The more intense my paddling, the wetter I got. Not being able to make noise meant I had to show him how aroused I was in other ways. I squirmed, hoping to come into contact with his cock. I licked the underside of the sleek toy in my mouth, wishing it were Dom’s. I gave in to the spanking, to the pain, to the rush. When he grabbed my ponytail hard, I gave in to the tears. “You’ve been so good and quiet, I’m going to give you a special spanking.”

The paddle thudded to the ground before Dom pressed my legs as wide as he could get them, then began delivering love taps right on my pussy lips. The taps soon became full-on smacks, like the ones he’d planted across my cheek. I breathed raggedly through my noise, craving only his hand. After a volley that left my pussy throbbing, he slid his thumb inside me while manipulating my clit. I came hard against his hand, primed from the buildup.

When Dom let me sit up, he went to unbuckle the gag, but I shook my head. “You like it, don’t you, my dirty girl?” I smiled. I didn’t need to verbalize it. My Dom knows me perfectly.

3 Responses to “How to eroticize anything: moving edition, with free BDSM erotica story”

  1. Elizabeth Shore September 18, 2015 at 3:50 pm #

    Oooh, Rachel. I already thought it was a hot day. Now it’s smoldering. Great read!

    Like

  2. F Dot Leonora September 18, 2015 at 4:10 pm #

    this is awesome, and i agree–ANYTHING can be eroticized…and should be!

    Like

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. Getting naked on the page about my sex life in 2015 | Lady Smut - December 18, 2015

    […] have the hots for someone literally twice your age), the human side of sex dolls, and offered up a moving-themed erotica story inspired by the fact that in January, I’ll have moved four times in four […]

    Like

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