The story of the story: Way at the start of my Erotic Meet journey, I entered the monthly competition. The theme to which this was written was “Out of My Comfort Zone”.

I’m not familiar with BDSM practices. I had never really written about it too, and because of my non-existant knowledge on the subject, this was further out for me. But I think it wasn’t enough.

I did push myself to write this. It was inspired by something in my head about a lover stepping over the line, and my own experiences with people talking about or touching my stomach. It’s a sensitive spot for me, and I don’t particularily like it. So this mainly came out of a spot of anger.


The story


By Jill Boyd


You’re a brat.

A nuisance, pestering me and drawing me out of my corner. Keen on hurting me inside and out. See those welts on my stomach? They’re yours. Mementos from the last time we “played”. You thought it would be funny to hit me there, with your new torture instrument. I remember the sting of the terse leather against my skin. It made me burn, in a bad way.

I told you I didn’t want you to touch my stomach. That it was sensitive. That it was my very core. Don’t touch it, I said. But you did.

And with that you crossed the line.

But the tables are turned tonight.

I shall bruise more than your fragile ego. For tonight, I’m in control. I get to say what I want, do what I want and you are going to grovel at my feet, for I am your Mistress and you are my slave and what goes around, comes around.

You’re going to crawl for me. Oh yes, crawl for your slut, your sexy cumslut. That’s what you like to call me, isn’t it? When you jizz all over my pretty face and I lap it up like the good girl I am?

Tonight, I’m going to cum over you. Get my girl-juices on your pretty, clueless face. You’re not allowed to lick them up. I’m not granting you the taste tonight.

You are going to watch me pleasure myself. Oh yeah, you like that, don’t you, dirty boy? What’s that? You want to touch your cock? You want to wank for me and show me how hard you can come?

Oops. Afraid that’s not going to happen. Tonight, no-one, not even you, will be touching that cock.

You see, I’m going to tie you up to the bed. You are going to suffer for your pleasure.

Cos that leather paddle? The one that bruised my stomach so bad?

Guess where that’s going?

Scream all you want, but tonight, I’m in charge.

You’re my fucktoy now. How does that feel? Losing control of something so precious to you?

Are you feeling lightheaded? Is your dick straining? Can you feel your balls tightening?

You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?

Bet you are. 

But who told you that you were allowed to get off?

Tonight, I am in control. How does that feel?

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