r. thorne writes

a lot of what i write is a combination of third person kinky vignettes and first person fem domme, but a lot of the language is pretty gender neutral, so take it as you will.

askbox and dms are both open (for now), but i probably won't reply to either unless i'm really feeling like it. i'm giving you the erotica--everything else is your problem. and if you can't figure it out? sounds like a skill issue on your part, sweetheart. (currently feeling like replying to asks, but will be inconsistent in any dm-ing. guidance can be found here)

sir or ma'am are both fine, if you feel the need to use some sort of honorific. mommy is not.

i'm not looking for a relationship. i won't be your domme or your sub or anything in between or otherwise.

She remembers that, vaguely, but it's hard to think about with fellow superheroine Dr. Bright's tongue against her clit, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm but not quite--

Not letting her--

She was trying to save someone from the newest supervillain who popped up, but it's hard to picture them right now, or remember their powers, or who she was trying to--

"Please," she begs as Dr. Bright pulls away just as she's about to tip over that edge into orgasm. "Please let me--let me--"

Dr. Bright says something against her clit, or doesn't, tongue busy, and Ms. Amazing arches up against her, trying to grind her clit against Dr. Bright's face so she can get enough pressure just to cum, just once, so she can think--

There is someone nearby, but she can't even manage to turn her head to look at them because all she can think about is how much she needs to cum.

"It's no worries," Catherine reassures her brightly. "I know some people are just a little...leaky, that's all."

"I'm not usually, um." Jenny presses her legs together, as though that would hide the way her arousal has soaked through not only her panties but also her pants to make a mess of Catherine's chair. "I can't explain--"

"No need to explain," Catherine says with a smile. "I have a suggestion, though, if you want."

Anything to keep from having to look at a puddle of arousal on a chair in someone else's kitchen again. "Yes, please."

"Why don't I check for you when you get here next time, and then we can decide if we need to put down a towel or something on the chair. Just quick and easy, see if your panties are dry, and if you're a litle leaky again we can just put something down to keep the chair dry."

That sounds humiliating, but it can't be more humiliatng than this. "Yes, please."

"And you can see here our permanent version," Jacqueline says, gesturing at the woman sitting in the last chair suckling dreamily on the dildo gag in her mouth. "As you can see, while it's locked in the back, the straps are designed to not rest against her skin, to avoid any irritation or damage. And sustenance is delivered directly through the gag, so there's no need to remove it for eating or drinking."

"And you said that this helps with docility?" Mrs. Chambers asks. "I don't want to go through all of this trouble just to still have a loud, troublesome wife."

"It certainly does," Jacqueline tells her with a smile. "There's some resistance at first, of course, though that is always true with gagging, but you'll find that quickly restriction of not be able to speak paired with the weight of the gag in their mouth makes them much less bothersome. And once they understand that they gag will reward them with proper sucking, they become much more compliant. If I may show you?"

Mrs. Chambers waves a hand. "Go ahead."

Jacqueline goes to a nearby cabinet and pulls out a dildo gag, which she quickly cleans before heading over to where Mrs. Chambers's wife is bound to a nearby chair. She has an ordinary ball gag in her mouth, something cheap and plastic, and Jacqueline pulls it down.

"You b--"

The dildo gag is slid into Mrs. Chambers's wife's mouth before she can even finish her sentence, and she tries to shake her head back and forth to get free, but it's too late.

"You're thirsty, right?" Jacqueline says as she secures the gag around the back of the head.

Hesitantly, Mrs. Chambers's wife nods.

"If you suck on this just right, it will give you all the water you need."

Audrey tries to protest, but that would require taking the dildo out of her mouth, and it feels so good in her mouth, thick and heavy and sending pleasure shivering all down her spine.

"That's okay," Shana says. "I'm sure this is just a phase. I mean, you're the one who said that only subs like sucking cocks, and you're not a sub, are you?"

Aubrey shakes her head, drool running down her chin.

"That's right," Shana coos. "My little switch, and proud of it. Only...if it's just subs who like sucking cock, and you're all wet and messy just from having one in your mouth, what does that make you?"

Aubrey almost answers, but then Shana nudges the dildo another half-inch into her mouth, and she gets distracted by that instead.

Absolutely!

Two tasks, and you can take them as an either/or:

Practice your makeup or nail polish and reward yourself with an orgasm when you get it right. A sharp red lip, clean nail polish application with no mess, bronzer or contour or blush that flatters your face just the way you want it to--each of those deserves their own orgasm.

Here are two tasks, and you can take them as an either/or:

After you cum, the first thing you need to do is find something to hump for at least five minutes. And not something soft, either--a counter, the corner of a table, the side of a bathtub, the arm of a couch. Really grind your sensitive t-dick against it. If you cum again, the five minutes restarts.

After your first orgasm, keep going until you have a second, so you have at least two every time. And if you can't manage to get to a second orgasm--well, I guess you need to keep going, no matter how sensitive you are.

Across the desk from her, Pofessor Allison Willows sits with her legs spread wide, unmoving, her skirt hiked up around her waist and a dark spot from her arousal spreading across her visible panties.

"You're going to tutor me," Shelly tells Professor Willows, "and if I earn--genuinely earn--at least a B on our next quiz, then I'll let you cum."

Professor Willow's eyes widen.

"Don't worry, though," Shelly reassures her. "I'm not entirely cruel. After every tutoring session, you'll get a full hour to play with yourself however you want. Rubbing, fucking, a good vibrator--whatever floats your boat."

The arousal spreads across Professor Willow's panties.

Well, I don't do the tasks.

But my real answer is broadly yes with a couple of rules:

I will only give tasks that fit in the Things I will write about section of my ask policy (which means that I won't give things like intox or exhibitionism).

I need at least a little of detail about what you're looking for. I can make things relatively body neutral, but I don't want to be guessing whether someone is looking for denial vs overstim etc. If you want something from me, you're going to have to ask in enough detail that I can give it to you.

A few other things:

Like with the rest of my asks, no guarantee of when (or if) I will respond.

If I ever give a task, I am trusting that you are doing it in a way that is safe for you. If that means changing something that I said to something that better fits your body/situation/needs, then do that.

I am nobody's Domme.

I realize this is a long answer to a short question, but directing a stranger to do something (or even suggesting) is a bit different from just writing little snippets.

It's a little at first, and then a little more, working her way up gradually so he doesn't notice until it's too late to do anything about it, until the drug that makes him suggestible is too built up in his sytem for him to resist.

And by that point she can sit across the table from him--even though, as his personally secretary, he directed her never to do something so familiar--and say, with a note of faux-sympathy in her voice, "Your cock is so hard, isn't it? Just so hard and aching that you need to have your hand around it to make it feel better."

He scrabbles with the fly on his increasingly tight pants, getting it down and shoving his underwear out of the way so he can wrap around his throbbing erection.

"Isn't that better?" she asks.

Damien nods.

"That's right," she says. "It's so much better that you always want to have your hand around your cock unless I tell you otherwise. But you're not going to move your hand or try to make yourself cum unless I tell you to, okay? Because if you try to cum all on your own, then you're going to need to let go, and it'll ruin your orgasm, and you won't like that at all. But if I tell you to cum then it will feel so good. Isn't that nice of me?"

Damien nods.

it's not a love match by any means, but she stil expected some measure of fidelity, to preserve her own dignity and respect within the community. That was apparently too much for Kailee, who spent the last two years fucking everything over eighteen that moved.

But Beth can't divorce her.

That doesn't mean she has to just lie there and take it.

She starts growing Kailee's tits first. They're well-used, and it takes very little magic to make them grow--a little a day, but it adds up fast. She puts another few cup sizes onto Kailee.

Then she stops and lets Kailee get complacent. Lets her think it's a fluke.

Kailee's walking goes next. It's not that Kailee can't walk, but when she's not actively doing something to benefit Beth she just finds it...easier to crawl.

Kailee's hands Beth makes clumsy, taking away dexterity until she needs help with even simple things like doing her makeup or writing.

Kailee's hardly leaving the house at this point, and some part of her must know what's going on, but Beth feigns at sympathy, helps her with just a little strategic condescension, and Kailee seems to buy her ignorance.

Beth starts Kailee's lactation just before leaving the house, so she can come back to Kailee as a sticky aching mess, too clumsy to change her clothes or even get all the milk out easily. Beth suggests a milking schedule and then has the milking make Kailee unbearably horny, but at this point her hands are too clumsy to rub herself to an orgasm.

Beth lets her hump a pillow sometimes, as a reward for good behavior.

"Aww, JJ, is someone getting a little sweepy?"

Jennifer wants to tell her roommate not to call her JJ and not to use that baby voice with her, but instead she yawns and her eyelids droop and she finds herself mumbling, "Uh huh."

"That's okay," Mira coos.

She presses her thumb to Jennifer's lips, and Jennifer finds herself suckling Mira's thumb, sloppily. Jennifer thinks maybe she should protest, but having something to suck on feels so good, and Jennifer--

"It's okay to be a sweepy little girl," Mira tells her in that same sing-song-y baby voice that makes everything go soft and gooey in Jennifer's head. "But first we need to check to see if you're all leaky. Are you all leaky, JJ?"

JJ thinks she should say she isn't leaky, but the words drop out of her head before they reach her mouth, so what she mumbles around thumb are barely words at all.

"Aww, it's okay if you don't know," Mira tells her. "We can check together."

With the hand not being drooled on by JJ's lax mouth, she directs one of JJ's hands under her waistband, under her panties, into the place where JJ is all hot and slippery.

JJ's eyelids flutter, almost too heavy to keep open.

She thought the sinner who is trying to corrupt her would take her panties from her, make her walk around baring herself to the world, making her flash herself to strangers like a slut.

She was optimistic at first, when the sinner lets her keep her panties. She begged for it, even, and thought it a victory when she won.

It takes her too long to realize that her panties are being used to hold the dildo in her cunt--she's not able to think of any other word for it, no matter how distasteful she finds the word cunt--and to keep a vibrator pressed against her clitoris.

Her proper, modest panties keep whatever the sinner puts between her legs in place even while Charity goes about her day--to her university classes, to Bible study, to church. They give just enough tension to press the dildo that extra half-inch into her cunt again and again as she sits, stands, even just squirms in her chair.

And the sinner inspects them every morning and every night, taunting Charity with how wet they are at the end of each day, her traitorous cunt leaking all over them.

Anything with that kind of thing would be awesome! Maybe some femdom ftm sub humiliation? (If you're feeling it, obv)

"Are you going to be a good boy for me?" Avamarie asks, and Chris's mind goes hazy and his boxers get soaked and he starts humping his chair without ever consciously deciding to do so.

Avamarie is his almost-stepsister--his mom and her dad have been will-they-won't-they since both of them were teenagers--and she mostly ignored him when he was still presenting as a girl, but since he came out and started transitioning, she's been--

"It doesn't look like you're trying very hard to be a good boy for me," she scolds, and he gets impossibly wetter and harder, hips working like he's trying to fuck the chair. He can barely think, his mind full of need and heat. "A good boy would make a mess all over himself, the sort of mess he would have to worry about hiding from Mommy and Daddy. In fact, that would be all a good boy could think about: how much of a mess he is, how much he needs to hide it, and how much he wants to cum."

Chris shoves three fingers in his mouth and starts to suck on them, lips stretched around them, drool spilling out the corners of his mouth. His mind is almost blank now, just desperation and humiliation at how his desperation is painted all over his body.

The rest of them are mocking or joking, but little one is straight-up patronizing, almost infantalizing, especially said in that sappy-sweet voice of Marina's, like the way a teacher talks to her young students.

And Marina mostly uses it when correcting her, too, or explaining things to her--how to make their overpriced coffee machine work, the intricacies of their apartment's recycling system--so it always comes when Marina is right and Bella is, at best, ignorant.

It's too humiliating to ask Marina to stop because that would mean admitting that it's bothering Bella, that it makes Bella blush and squirm with embarrassment, especially when other people are within earshot.

And then a couple of times Bella starts to drift off to sleep on their couch and Marina gets her up with an, "It's time for bed for you, little one.

And then one time Marina walks in on her masturbating and says, "That's enough of that, little one," and pins Bella's arms over her head and presses turns the vibrator on high and presses it between Bella's legs until she shudders and cums.