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Only two things are going to conclude this. One is your safeword. The other your orgasm.

Read Part IV, or start Making a Masochist from the beginning

Delicious flutters of post orgasmic bliss are still coursing through me as Ian and Lisa untie my wrists and ankles, one on each side. Now that I’m no longer struggling against the release of climax, the discomfort of my…

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Even though I know this isn’t about pleasure, the humiliation of it makes my blood sing.

Read Part I, II and III of Making a Masochist now.

Arriving at Ian’s home, we pile out, me at the back of the line, where Ian likes me; one step behind and to the right. …

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And my traitor of a vagina doesn’t think it’s a bad idea now either.

Read Part I and II now.

“What the fuck, Lisa!” I say much louder than I intend, but geez, why is she standing there, watching Ian fuck me?

Ian pulls my hair hard, yanking my head back and my eyes level to his. “Language, dirty girl,” he growls.

“Sorry Sir…

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“Say my name. Loud, Savannah. I want the entire library to know you’re mine.”

Read Part I of Making a Masochist here.

I make my way to the library’s basement, deciding on the reference book section, since it’s not usually a busy area. Spotting a dark corner, I take in my surroundings, setting the blanket on the floor when I arrive. …

Relaxed female laying down

450 Word Erotic Flash Fiction

Sleep eludes me. I toss and turn, but a comfortable position can’t be found. I watch you for a minute, then two. The streetlamp outside our window shines vibrantly through the partially parted curtains. Enough to display your hills and valleys, the trail that guides me from sternum to hips.

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After a little chatter and a game of pool, I knew I would fuck this man.

I’ve just reached the bottom step at the College’s main doors when my phone rings. Juggling my books and bag, I search my pockets, using the constant vibrations as a location device. The screen shows it’s Ian. In America from Wales, we met at an off-campus pub, his thick accent…

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Their joining becomes frantic as her moans speed up

She stares out the window, sipping bitter black coffee while thinking about what to write. Sex scenes always feel more demanding. Not because she lacks imagination in that area — quite the opposite is true if last night is any indicator. But she will admit that this brand of sex…

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What had started as an innocent blowing of a kiss soon became visions of her on her knees before me

Each day on my walk to work, I’d pass a coffee shop and every day, the same woman would blow me a kiss. The first time, I thought it was for someone else. But after the second and third, and eventually the fiftieth, I realised she meant those hushed kisses…

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The missus lifts her skirt and takes my hand, puts it between her thighs.

Neil perches on the stool beside John, a grin splitting his rugged face. He can’t wait to tell John what happened last night. He’s still shocked it happened at all. …

a white mask

Behind closed doors, he was mean, spiteful, and cruel.

Content Warning: This story has been fictionalised, based on a real-life scenario that contains themes of gaslighting, mental abuse and impersonation. Please read at your own risk.

The change in their relationship began before the baby was born. His moods turning sour as her belly grew. He touched her less…

Mrs. K

Writer, Editor and Lover of Literature. Find more of me on twitter @kinkywifelife, or check out my blog at

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