A theme in my latest release, FulFill Me, is role play. Caitlyn gets to experience many different types and I thought I’d share some sexy snippets with you today.
Dressing up in the bedroom is not a new phenomenon but I think it is one of those things that people would love to do but don’t know where to start. Well, the good news is you don’t have to spend a fortune to be able to indulge in a little role play.
Check out yesterday’s Sunday Snog to experience role play without a need to dress up. All you really need is your imagination.
Here’s a little spanking snippet which is another example of role play without a costume!
“You will do wench, but you still need punishing. Stand up.”
I jump up off the sofa like I bounced up on a broken spring.
“Now young lady, follow me.” He stands up and walks me back out into the corridor then across it to a room I’ve not been in before. One of many actually from the length of the corridor and the doors along it. When the door swings open, I can see clearly that it’s a study.
An old wood desk dominates the middle of the room. It’s back faces a massive window which shines as black as Whitby jet filled with the night sky. In one corner of the room is a simple high backed chair with no arms. This is where he chooses to sit down and after shutting the door behind me I stand before him.
“Now only a young, foolish child would speak without thinking, so you’ll receive a childish punishment. Over my knees now young lady.” I hesitate, biting my lip. “NOW!” He barks, making me jump. “Don’t question me young lady, or you’ll not be able to sit down for a fortnight.”
I concede and lower myself awkwardly to his lap, the bottom of my clothed breasts rubbing the outside of his thigh, my pubis pushing gently against the other. He quickly raises my skirt, folding it back over my bottom then he rips down the satin black knickers beneath.
He rubs his hand gently over the curve of my buttocks and I bite my lip, not wanting to moan out in case it enflames him more. I’ve never been spanked before but my cunt is wet and my nipples aching. However I’m not sure how much pain I can take. The idea is pleasurable, but the practicalities of it all make me anxious. I want to enjoy it, it’s obviously something he enjoys; I can feel his erection against my stomach. But I just don’t know how much punishment I’ll be able to take.
Suddenly, the thought is shocked from my mind as his usually soft hand slaps down with stinging harshness. It shocks me but it isn’t too uncomfortable. The next slap creates more heat than sharpness. I gasp and press my pubis forward trying to escape the next slap. It burns and I really start to question how much I can take.
It’s then that he gently caresses my burning rump and I mewl like a contented kitty until he snaps his hand back and slams it against my flesh several times in quick succession making me yelp with the stinging pain.
His fingers skim over my heated flesh then dip between my buttocks, tracing down between my thighs as they fall open for him, dipping into the moisture pooling there and gently teasing my clit.
“Such a horny little slut, enjoying her spanking.” He tuts and slaps my buttocks hard once more.
Costumes can be as simple as a tie for a guy, a white blouse and smart skirt for that secretary/library look (glasses optional!) and can get very elaborate and very expensive. But with a little imagination you can make the most of whatever you’ve got in your wardrobe already.
He looks up at me, his face almost solemn. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Good. Crawl over into the living room slave, undress and then sit back on your knees in front of the sofa. Wait there. I just have to go and change.”
So what would a Mistress wear? I don’t have any of the gear except for the whip I kept from my brief fetish affair. I couldn’t bear to part with it and had enjoyed many a lover using it on my arse.
I start with the obvious. I pull my hair up into a long ponytail. I look sterner with my hair swept back, I always put my hair up on days when I know I’ll be hiring or firing people. It gives me a little boost to be even more ruthless. I look through my underwear drawer and pull out a black, lacy basque. I remember a very short leather skirt I have hanging in the back of my wardrobe. I look it out and pull it on. It looks great and my outfit is almost complete.
It took me ages to slip into my kinky boots but I knew waiting would make Nick all the more eager to please me. Finally I pick up the soft leather whip. It has a heavy handle, the leather throngs being about five inches long giving it the look of a rather menacing feather duster or mop when hung with the fronds facing down. It makes a beautiful noise, but causes little pain, a good place to start, to see how into this Nick really is.
I stride into the living room and am very pleased to see him, buck jack naked and kneeling on the floor, facing the sofa. I can see his profile, and just above his thigh I can see the uppermost curve of his eager cock, it looks wet and inviting.
I am very impressed by how he doesn’t look up at all, not even when I’m standing before him. I grin wickedly. “Well done Slave, you can look up and view your mistress now. Tell me what you think?”
His gaze lifts up then widens, his jaw slackening as his tongue runs over his lips. His eyes roam from my boots up to my short skirt and my basque encased breasts.
“You look magnificently sexy, Mistress.”
“Good answer, slave. I think I’m going to like you, a lot. Now then, what did you say before? Oh yes, you thought I was a hot piece of ass.” The Americanised word sounded weird in my high class British accent.
“Well then,” I turn round, resting my hands on the sofa back, bending so that my skirt raises and he can see my pussy and arse. “If you love my bottom that much, show me.”
But sometimes you’ve just got to go all out and dress up to the nines. Caitlyn did when she had to go to an otherwise boring Halloween Fancy dress party. Her Old West whore’s costume got her many admiring looks and the attention of one particularly handsome and mysterious cowboy.
“Hello.” Sheila opens the door, all smiles in her oh so predictable black cat ensemble. Her expression goes from fake smile to real shock and horror in a fraction of a second, transforming my benign plastic smile into something far more vibrant and emotive.
“Good Evening, Caitlyn. That is an interesting costume.” I can see her gaze taking in everything from the gaudy red slippers, the knee high fishnets and revealed garter up to the tight cinched chest, and the bounty of my cleavage frothing over the top. She is well and truly appalled. I’m loving this costume more by the minute.
When I walk into the large dining room I feel lots of stares upon me. I gaze around and see all kinds of costumes, some people I recognise some I don’t and others I think are really strangers. Pumpkins, Supermen and Wonder Women are mixed in with vampires, ghosts and animals with a liberal sprinkling of fairies and genies. I am so very glad to see the level of costume imagination in others nowhere challenges my costume.
I knew I’d be the Belle of the ball.
“Caitlyn, is it you?” Mr. Majors in his suit walks over and takes me hand, squeezes it briefly then drops it his eyes looking over my body as he does so.
“It is me.” I smile and he grins lewdly, which is kind of disconcerting when the man is old enough to be my Grandfather.
“By Jove it is! Well I must say I do like your costume, it’s very, erm, flattering.” He grins nervously, his round face flushing to hot red, his eyes starting to bulge.
“What have you come as, Mr. Majors?” I ask politely, and he replies. “A politician. I dress up like one every damn day so I don’t see why Halloween should be any different. Dear old Henri tried to convince me to wear something else, but I said to her, I’ll be dammed if I’m going to wear some dandy costume at my age!” As if summoned by the mention of her name, Dear old Henrietta arrives by Mr. Majors’ arm. She’s dressed like a politicians wife I think, as I cannot detect anything costume like about her outfit.
She holds conversation with me for only a second before hurrying her husband away obviously worried about the effect of my costume on his blood pressure. I hold in a snort of laughter as they waddle away together, arm in arm. Please Lord, if you’re out there, save me from that. I don’t want to grow old at all, but please don’t make me frumpy and senile as well!
My outfit attracts all kinds of looks from glares of icy hatred to red hot leers of lust. I dance to the middle of the road pop music being piped into the overly grand, understatedly decorated dining room. Several men come forward to dance with me, many of whom are soon after dragged away by wives and girlfriends.
Whilst stood in the corner sipping at a glass of water a cowboy slips by me, his hand rests briefly on my hip and I catch a hint of a sweet citrus smell. I decide it’s worth playing a little with this one, so I spin around and meet him eye to eye.
“You can’t touch, what you’ve not paid for, you dirty rotten good fer nothing’ cowpoke. Just ‘cos I’m a whore doesn’t mean I’m easy you know!”
He smiles sardonically. His lips lifting at the corners and making his eyes sparkle under the wide, black sash across them. His face is further shadowed by the wide brim of his dark brown and battered cowboy hat.
“Well, excuse me Ma’am. I was just being friendly like, are you always this mean to potential customers?” his hand rests on his hip, as the elbow of his other arm rests on the bar. His body is bent towards me, one knee directed right at my crotch.
“No, but I’m always this mean to men who touch without asking a lady’s permission first.”
“I’ll remember that in future ma’am.” He grins, his fake American accent stretched, but still sounded pretty convincing. I like the look he has too, faded blue jeans, brown cowboy type boots and a plain, midnight black shirt, open at the collar.
“Good.” I nod curtly then sidle up beside him, rubbing my body along the length of his. “Now, buy me a drink, and we can talk about this potential custom of yours.”
“Oh, so now you’re friendly enough. What would you like to drink darlin’?”
“Scotch, on the rocks.” I reply, keeping to my character, and getting in some extra American Dutch courage. Knocking back the whiskey in one go might have been a bad decision though. I’m glad I went with the waterproof mascara tonight.
“Are you alright, darlin’?” He pats me on the back, as I splutter and pushes over a glass to me.
“Yep, it just went down the wrong way.” I smile crookedly and take a sip of the proffered water.
“I thought so.” The mysterious cowboy comments a smirk lingering over his lips. “Now then, what are your rates?”
“Oh well, I’m quite expensive, but I am very good value for money. I’ve never received any complaints.”
“That’s good because I don’t buy no cheap rubbish you know, I like quality. I like to buy something I know will last.” He grins once more and I smile sweetly back.
“No worries there, love. I can last as long as you need me too and longer no doubt.”
He laughs out loud startling the rotund vampire behind him and making me chuckle too. Something about this guy is really hitting all my spots, and I’m pretty certain that’s not just the scotch talking.
So use your imagination and seduce your partner with a bit of sexy role play. You don’t need to spend a fortune to spice up your sex life, all you need is in your mind and between the pages of your favourite Blisse books!
And get some more ideas today.