Baking, brattiness, and punishment butt sex

As I’m exploring continuing my explorations with butt plugs, anal sex is increasingly present in my fantasies. The idea of butt sex as a punishment is one that I’m fascinated by – in the this-is-scary-but-also-so-hot kind of way. I wanted to play with that idea a bit more, plus write smut featuring degradation and cupcakes.

I love the control baking gives me. I need exact measurements of the ingredients, a precise oven temperature, and to follow a strict formula to turn all of these into . There is no room for error when baking, and it’s the one area in my life where I’m good at turning off my natural resistance to instructions and following the rules.It helps me get into a meditative head space, a little like the calm I find before an intense kink scene. Though, of course, for me it is.

I curl up on the sofa and nibble one of my perfect cupcakes, wanting energy for what happens next. For what happens when my partner lets themselves into the flat and sees what I’ve done to the kitchen.

“Get in here, you filthy little slut.”

I also love that in creating these tiny, exquisite mouthfuls of deliciousness I can make such a lot of mess. And leaving that mess in the kitchen is a sign to my partner that I need them to dom me. Hard.

“Yes, babe?” I responded, all faux-innocence and a cute smile. They turn to me, already completely in their dominant role, and my cunt clenches. They can look really mean when they want to and sometimes I wonder if I’ve pushed it too far, even though it’s an agreed sign of brattiness. When I can’t ask for what I want, I can leave the kitchen in a mess after baking, a deliberate mistake that they’ll punish me for as though it’s a far bigger infraction.

I love it, even though there’s genuine fear mixed with my arousal as they order me to strip and bend over.

There’s something delicious about being naked when they’re clothed – now they’re in control and in this moment they’re as strict with me as the recipe for two dozen salted caramel cupcakes was. I squirm with embarrassment as they make it clear that if I made mess earlier, they don’t care if I get messy now when I brace myself against the kitchen table. I’m expecting a spanking, but what I get is them spreading my ass cheeks and spitting into the crack of my ass. I flinch.

“Aww, don’t you like me making a mess of you, like you did of my kitchen?”

Their voice is condescending and my cunt twitches. They have calculated their words with painstaking deliberation so the degradation makes me hot. I don’t know where they produce it from, but I do hear the schloosh of lube and feel something cold pressing against my asshole. Fuck-fuck-fuck, they have a butt plug in their hand.

“Relax. You’ll make it worse for yourself if you tense.”

They’re right, and I breath into the sensation of the plug being pushed inside me – delighting in the point where it feels like my body is greedy for it and is pulling it in. Just as I’m adjusting to the feeling of being filled, they bite the back of my neck and I let out a sharp hiss of pain. When they let me straighten up, I see that they’re smirking.

“Clean everything up. Now.”

Up until this point, anal sex has featured infrequently in our play. I’ve worn the butt plug long periods of time, sure, but mostly while they fucked my cunt with a vibrator against my clit. This is different though – the plug is no longer just part of our fucking, now it’s a sign of their control. And now they’re leaning against the sink, their cold, hard gaze makes me blush. They’ve never used butt sex as a punishment before.

The plug moves inside me with every step I take, so it takes me longer than usual to clean the kitchen. Naked, I can feel wetness between my legs, but under their sharp eyes I don’t dare to try to touch my cunt. They don’t speak, but that makes everything more intense and their message even clearer: I made a mess, so they’re making me look pretty while I clean it up. It’s so simple and so clever and so very hot.

When I’m done, they tell me to bend over again and take their time inspecting my work. I breath a sigh of relief when they take the plug out but their other hand is still on my back, preventing me from standing up.

“Wait there, slut.”

When they return, they’re wearing their strap-on. I whine when I feel it pressing against my arse.

“Did you think that was it, you dirty little bitch? No. You wanted to push me, and now I’m going to push you. I’ve been patient with your anal training, but if you’re going to be a brat then why should I be nice. I’ve been holding back on properly fucking your ass, but I think it’s time I reminded you whose in charge here.”

I let out a moan that is pure lust. For the first time, the facade drops, as they bend closer to whisper to me.

“You ok there, babe?”

My body hurts – but in a good, stretched way; the kind of endurable pain that I love – and I know it will hurt more by the time they’ve finished with me. It’s exactly what I want, exactly the kind of scene I imagined while baking earlier.

“Fuck yes.”

They grin sadistically.

“Good, because now I’m going to fuck you. If you’re a very good girl, I might let you have one of those sweet little cupcakes when I’m done using you. The you can see if you think being such a bad girl was worth it.”

 

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