Ella’s Fantasy Friday: The Pole

Welcome to my new short story series, Ella’s Fantasy Friday!

I took a stroll through my catalogue of erotica recently, and do you know what I discovered? Out of the hundred plus stories I’ve penned in the past two and a half years, only a handful touch on my personal fantasies and kinks.

That got me thinking about the stuff I have locked away in my head that turns me on. About the places my mind goes during masturbation and, sometimes, during sex. I soon realised that many of my turn-ons would probably be considered controversial. Unfeminist. Damaging. And I also noticed how each of the fantasies in my head tint the colour of my fiction, the impact they have on character dialogue and dynamics.

In a bid to offer you, my lovely readers, an insight into what goes on my head (should you want it) I’ve decided to write about my sexual fantasies. I’m not gonna analyse them here for two reasons: Continue reading “Ella’s Fantasy Friday: The Pole”

A Surprise Attack

I haven’t followed the Wicked Wednesday prompt this week cos it’s true story time! Aside from reviews, I don’t think I’ve ever let you into my sex life, lovely readers, and I think it’s about time I changed that. So, here we go…

Holy fuck, I’ll be in for it when we get home, I can feel it in my bones.

How do I know? His sudden silence.

He’d been talkative when we left the shopping precinct, nattering away as he grabbed my bags so that I could use the cash machine. We’d reached the car and he’d stuffed a few over-filled tote bags in the boot, and was cheerful and smiling, right up until the moment I playfully smacked his butt as he opened the passenger door for me. Continue reading “A Surprise Attack”

Bastinado

My bones almost leap from my skin when the grandfather clock in the corner of the room declares that midnight has arrived. It’s a dolorous sounding thing at the best of times, but tonight the tolling weighs heavily upon me. It feels like I’m listening to my own death knell. My heart rattles out at least six beats for every pitying chime.

As the last one fades to silence, the door behind me opens. It’s almost as if whoever has come had been loitering in the hall, waiting for this most ominous of moments to make their entrance. The blindfold that had been left on the floor was custom made to my face shape, so even though the room is brightly lit, for me darkness is absolute. I don’t know which of his Controllers the Master has sent. Continue reading “Bastinado”

Oh, Lola

Lola is being a brat.

Her office is closed today. She wants me to stay home with her and I can’t, so she’s acting up.

First, it was pouting. Those soft lips of hers, tinted pink, puckering into a perfect little rosebud while her chin dimpled, and her Wedgewood blue eyes glittered with tears. She has this way of inclining her head and looking up at me through her dolly lashes. It looks innocent enough, but the way she pulls her arms in and leans forward so I follow the line of her eyes, to her pout, to her cleavage reveals it for what it is.

Manipulative little so-and-so. Every other time I’ve seen her pull that trick I’ve grabbed her and kissed her breathless, so why she thought it would work today is anybody’s guess. Continue reading “Oh, Lola”

Achingly Beautiful

She was a flame, divine
My pathic call of duty, irrefutable
Her eyes they paralyzed me, froze the flow of time
A glimpse so achingly beautiful
Verse from Achingly Beautiful from the album “Cryptorania” by Cradle of Filth

I’ve seen and done a lot in my short life. More than most people will see and do in a lifetime. But none of the happiness or sadness, joy, pain, or suffering I’ve experienced could have prepared me for this moment.

When I’d received the featherlight touch of her fingers – sheathed in black lace – on my shoulder… choosing me… I’d thought I was ready. But now, here, in the muted light of her candlelit crypt, I understand the enormity of my own arrogance.

I am not ready for Libertina.

But she is ready for me. Continue reading “Achingly Beautiful”

Sons of Satan

Screaming hinges was one of the worst sounds in the world. It set my teeth on edge and gave me an itch in my head that was impossible to scratch. I assessed the solid double doors in front of me with weary eyes. Weathered wood, wrought iron studs, and hinges that looked like they hadn’t moved in a thousand years. Yeah, this one was gonna be a screecher.

Grumbling quietly to myself, I let my fingers curl around the imposing black ring on the inner side of the door on the right. It was icy cold, making me shiver just like I had the first time I’d walked into this derelict old church. Something about the place felt off. Sinister. Continue reading “Sons of Satan”

One Day, You’ll Learn

My muscles twitch, making my body tremble. I shake so hard, I hear the wooden frame of the bed rattle. Sweat snakes down my ribs and waist, pooling on the sheet beneath me and making the small of my back itch. I’m soaked with the sheen of anticipation, of struggle. Of the fruitless attempts to retreat from the punishment my questionable behaviour has earned me. Continue reading “One Day, You’ll Learn”

The Price of Defiance

She was watching me. Standing in the corner of the room, crop in hand, her eyes were fixed on me. I tried not to wince when she slapped the leather tip off the bare plaster wall behind her, but I failed. I cringed so hard the weight-lifting bench I was strapped to scraped over the floor, just a little, and her resulting snigger, though soft, seemed so loud to me. Continue reading “The Price of Defiance”

What Bad Girls Do Best


Image used with permission of Molly’s Daily Kiss

He’s at it again. The guy next door. Every Friday it’s someone new. Two weeks ago it was the purple haired geek who serves popcorn and hotdogs at the cinema. Last week it was a bronzed, toned metalhead from the local gym.

Gods, the noise they’d made! Never had a one night stand sounded so much like a pissing contest. They’d vied for power, for volume, for dominance. Just when one seemed to have accepted that they were there to bottom for the other there’d been a series of crashes and yells, swiftly followed by the one who was no longer in command groaning and begging for reprieve. He’d taken the upper hand in the end, though, naturally. Continue reading “What Bad Girls Do Best”