Bathsheba_Everdene77, Author at NSFW story — Page 3 of 4

Religious Preg Woman Sins – Short story

‘Right you two. Let’s say some prayers before school, ask God to bless us on this day,’ smiled Julia, swiping a stray curl from her daughter Lucy’s brow. Lucy and her brother Ben nodded and took their seats.

Hands together at the breakfast table the three of them murmured their supplication to God. Concluding with a fervent amen, Julia laid her hand over Lucy’s.

‘You know baby, we are supposed to keep our eyes shut when we pray to God.’

Lucy frowned and scooped up a spoonful of cornflakes.

‘Sure, it’s not like he sees though,’ she said.

‘Oh he does. God sees everything. And wants us to honour him in our prayers. So next time, eyes stay closed. Ok baby?’

‘Ok,’ sighed Lucy.

A few hours later after the morning school run, a bit of gardening and some housework, Julia decided it was wise to have a shower before she headed to the bank. Her back was sore after her exertions and her swollen breasts were aching and much relieved to be freed from the confines of her maternity bra. Read more »

Adrift – a mermaid erotic story

The tide was high since it was a full moon. It’s silver inking bleeding into the water, outlining each undulation like it required statesmanlike emphasis. Something else shifted also beneath the satellites ghostly visage. A shape predominantly curved and rounded. It moved with hardly a sound towards the man clinging to the upturned boat, hair plastered to his face and body racked with trembling.

An arm reached out. Gentle but strong. A sensation of being carried drifted through his awareness. There was no more fighting to hold on to the keel of his totalled but much beloved boat. He tipped his head back in relief and encountered a soft wet bare breast.

A woman.

Was she somehow a shipwreck survivor too? He knew his boat had capsized miles from land. Worry assailed him for both their well being. He attempted to swim a little to help their progress. Alien thoughts infiltrated his mind.

Be still. I have you. I will see you safe…

He wasn’t sure if he imagined it due to some strange survival response but her body seemed to press closer as she bore him through the water.

How was she talking without words? Read more »

Wants & Limits – a BDSM Short Story

A narrated version is available on my website

[https://samanthajwright.com/2022/04/27/wants-limits-a-bdsm-narrated-story/](https://samanthajwright.com/2022/04/27/wants-limits-a-bdsm-narrated-story/)

‘What do you want?’ my Dom says suddenly.

I’m intrigued about the surfacing of this question. It has risen up from a glassy sea like a periscope – a sea that was full of his wants and needs formerly; our sex is his to control, not mine. My role is to serve.

I don’t know what to do with the question. It could mean so many things. I’m lying on the carpet beneath him, hair splayed out, thinking in this second he has specific responses in mind and he won’t like what’s on mine if I spill.

Perhaps he means what physical act do I need and want from him? They are easy enough answers. Or maybe, just maybe, he’s finally picked up on the fact that I feel I cannot be free enough with him. He is guarded. A castle surrounded by a moat – you may fuck and be fucked but you cannot enter further. Don’t touch me here. Don’t behave like that. You must say these things but never that. Read more »

Madame Vivienne’s Club for Wayward Gentlemen.

He’s not a cowardly man by any means. Michael is lean and above average in height. Confident in his manner of address; even possessed of a tendency towards aloofness at times. Michael Barnabas Foucault has every right to be so. He comes from old money and is successful in his own right. Some half jokingly say his family might as well be Parisian royalty. Which is why even though his heart is pounding and his cock in a painful state of tumescence, he must exercise caution. He doesn’t really want to be seen.

These are not exactly the back streets either. Madame Vivienne is a brazen woman who has placed her establishment right in the heart of Avenue des Champs-Élysées. She is also cunning. By day the sign above the shop front declares it to be ‘The Creme de la Creme Tailoring and Fashion House’. By night, a few nights per month at least, the sign is reputedly altered and no one seems to know when this occurs or admits to knowing what the other sign, ‘Double Entendre’ means. Read more »

Too Big for Her Boots – True story

This is going to sound like something out of that stupid throw away novel ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’. And I don’t do all nicey nicey with love hearts and rainbows, even if there are whips and spankings involved. But the snow is falling heavily and I’m stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no coat, four inch heels, wearing a red lace see through top – no bra, paired with black leather trousers and a car that won’t fucking start. If you’re thinking I’m possibly on my way to a tryst, you’re right on the money my friend. Only fate has gotten in the way somewhat.

My heart is beating a good bit faster than I’d like. The car isn’t even safely off the road. There are no lights, except for far off in the distance and my phone battery is only at three percent.

Don’t panic. Calm Sam.

There’s about two or three inches of snow on the ground and more is dropping all the time. I reckon I’ve got a window of about ten minutes to try and save myself.

God, what a reckless idiot I am! I’d better text him, quick. Read more »

Bad Girl Switch

It’s two fifteen in the morning. But I don’t know it. I’m fast asleep; even for ten, maybe fifteen minutes after his message comes through. Then something causes me to stir. Out of habit, I check my phone and there it is.

‘Where are you?’

What the…?

Whatever happened to ignoring me? Oh. That’s right. I’ve been goading him. I do that with dominant males. It’s a fun pastime. I must have pushed a button or two a little too hard. Does sending him my knickers covered in the cum of another man constitute as goading? I think it might. Does telling him of slightly inappropriate things that occurred between me and his cousin? Apparently so. But that was more of a subconscious one. I really didn’t think it would matter that much. Or prompt this. Because he’s the guy that keeps everyone at arm’s length – most especially me. Good job I didn’t tell him about the two guys I had a threesome with the other week.

Sure this is the guy who cares about nothing, so why is he texting at this hour?

‘I’m at home, in bed,’ I reply.

His response is swift. Read more »

Donut Discipline – a food sex story

He was told nothing before he arrived. As well he shouldn’t be. Fucking unsophisticated cunt. He’s just a warm good looking piece of flesh procured for my enjoyment.

There he is. A dark, beardy, defiled, Jesus Christ look alike. I’m going to enjoy this.

‘Sit!’ I command, striking his naked bottom.

He looks all befuddled until I gesture towards my special chair. It has a circular hole in it for his pathetic balls to dangle through. He sits. I strap his arms to the backrest. My hands rove through his dark hair and I order him to speak my name.

‘Who owns you today Owen? Whose bitch are you? Hmm?’

His chocolatey brown eyes war with mine. I know there’s a touch of Dom in there. But he isn’t showing up today. Lady Sheba won’t have it.

‘Sheba’s,’ he drawls in that lazy Falls Road accent of his.

I laugh and place a red leather studded high heeled boot on his tight muscular thigh.

He thinks he’s got away with his insolence. My nipples and neurons say otherwise. Both are poised to fire. A backhand to the face is warranted. Some Mistresses would do so. No sweat. Read more »

First Knight

Simone was nervous. Not only was it forebodingly dark in the car park now that the lights were off, but there was also that terrible lurching feeling in her stomach that told her they were making a big mistake. She didn’t belong there. She was not experienced enough. Supposing she embarrassed him? Ryleigh seemed to have no such misgivings. He took the keys from the ignition and turned to face her, a quirky little smile playing across his lips.

‘Ready?’ he said, oozing confidence.

She nodded and fiddled with her stocking tops some more, smoothing them down. A thick forefinger, the one he often used to explore her soft coral interior, dimpled her chin forcing her to look directly at him.

‘Do you doubt my ability to keep you safe?’ he asked quietly.

‘No Sir.’

‘Do you doubt my ability to give you what you need?’ he pushed.

‘Absolutely not.’

She fought the desire to look away. His gaze was a bonfire of power and lust in the twilight. The magnetic pull of it kept her glued.

His finger relinquished her chin and he stared through the windscreen as a trail of amber lights came on to illuminate their way to Archambault Hall. Read more »

Luvin’ in the Elevator

I feel I stick out like a sore thumb here. I wish Dad wouldn’t take on these sorts of jobs. But I understand why he does. They pay well. And on the upside, at least I thought to wash my overalls last night. They’re nice and clean.

The hotel lobby is teeming with people; men in suits that probably cost more than I earn in a year, ladies dripping with diamonds and striding confidently in high heels. There are a few kids too. One of them runs straight into me. My tools scatter all over the marble floor.

‘Oh Gerald!’ scolds a woman dashing over.

‘You ok buddy?’ I say.

The child nods.

My mother would have battered me into next week for that. I hope his doesn’t.

The woman, who I presume to be his mother, scowls and snatches him away.

I gather up my tools. There’s heat in my cheeks. People are watching. Some are smirking. This really isn’t a place for the likes of me. Dad needs me though.

‘Where the fuck have you been?’ he says when he sees me. Read more »