I was delighted to wake up to an email with a Great BDSM Bake Off entry in my inbox today from Sami, a new-to-me writer. Sami is – in their words – a 30-something polyam enby living in Chicago. Their favourite hobby is sword-fighting, and they are looking forward to getting back into a writing habit in 2020. Find them on Twitter at @tangledupqueer. Their story, Baking Takes Patience, is short, sweet, and super hot.
Content note for pet play and remote-control butt plugs.
My pet sits on the counter, wearing only her collar, an apron, and a remote-controlled butt plug. I turn a page in the cookbook she’s holding in her lap. The page feathers across her hard dick, making her shiver. I idly run a finger along her dick as I read the next step and the cookbook trembles. I hear a whine and allow myself to smirk, turning the whine into a whimper.
Satisfied I know what comes next, I turn on her plug, blowing the whimper into a full moan as I grab the cocoa, measure it carefully, and add it to my mixing bowl. I follow that with flour, baking powder, and salt, taking my time measuring each one and enjoying my pet’s increasing desperation. I turn off the plug and turn on the mixer. The sounds of the beater flying around the bowl cover the barely audible pleading of Sir which I ignore as I watch the batter incorporate the new ingredients.
Turning off the mixer, I ask, “Have you been a good girl?” My pet nods, sitting straighter and gripping the cookbook tighter. “Would you like a treat?” She nods more enthusiastically.
I dip my finger in the batter as I hold her gaze. I can see her fleeting disappointment as I raise my finger to her mouth, but it turns to delight when the batter hits her tongue. The moment her eyes close, I grab her dick, stroking it roughly. She pitches forward to rest her forehead against mine and pant. I turn on the plug with my free hand. I can smell the chocolate on her breath and reach up to kiss her, consuming her little moans as she strains to ask permission to cum.
The book slips out of her grip.
I tut, breaking contact and turning off the plug. My pet blinks a few times, her dick pulsing and her fingers flexing as she works out why I’ve stopped. She sees the cookbook on the ground and pushes herself off the counter to retrieve it. When she bends over, I thread my fingers into her hair and hold her in that position.
“What task did I give you, pet?” I ask, tugging her hair.
“To hold the cookbook for you, Sir.” Her fingers hover over the fallen cookbook, a moment and miles away from it.
“And are you holding the cookbook, pet?”
I see her fingers twitch, wanting to pick it up so she can answer affirmatively, but she’s a good girl and says, “No, sir.”
“Five spanks and then you may pick it up, pet.”
I trail my fingers down her spine, over the tied apron strings and rest my hand on her ass. I tighten my grip on her hair and tell her to breathe, waiting one full breath before delivering five decisive smacks on her ass. She takes them beautifully, waits a beat, and picks up the cookbook.
“Are you ready to finish the recipe, pet?”