| Greetings and welcome to Kinky Kristmas 2015: Comment Kink Edition!
Our members have made requests for stocking stuffers that would help make their holidays happy -- and kinky, of course! Now you all -- both members and watchers -- have the opportunity to play Santa and fulfill those requests. In the form of comment kink!
Please read the information and instructions before you start stuffing our silk stockings:
• Request fills must be a minimum of 200 words (if fic) or a sketch equivalent (if art). Fills certainly need not be long (that would sort of be defeating the point of low-stress comment pr0n!); we just want to see a little bit of substance and thought in our stocking stuffers. ;) • Since fills will mostly be short, we're not going to be strictly policing the rating of each piece. Just remember this is Daily Deviant and we want to see some sex! • Each request may be filled twice -- once by a member and once by a watcher. • When filling a request, leave it in a comment directly in a reply to the request you're filling. • When filling a request, note whether you're filling it as a watcher or a member. • If you are now or have ever been a posting member of Daily Deviant, you'll be filling the requests as a member. • Claiming of requests is available but optional. What this means is that you need not claim a request in order to fill it, but if it's already claimed by someone else, it's off limits. • In order to claim a request, comment directly in a reply to the request stating that you're claiming it. Be sure to note whether you're claiming it as a member or a watcher. • Since we want as many goodies in our fishnet stockings as possible, there will be an expiration date on claims. One week after a claim is made (as per the time stamp on the comment), if the prompt has not been filled, the claim expires and the prompt is open for claiming or filling by someone else. So if a prompt you really love appears to be taken, remember to check back (although we hope you'll be following and playing along all month long!). • If you've made a claim that has expired, you may still post a fill in reply to the prompt as long as no one else fills it or claims it first. • Participants may have a total of two outstanding claims at a time. I.e., you may claim two requests, then when you've filled one, you may claim a third, etc. • Additional prompts will continue to appear. So if you don't find a prompt you really love, remember to check back (although we hope you'll be following and playing along all month long!). • Commenting, interacting, and generally having fun is welcome and encouraged!! Fandom is all about interaction with like-minded perverts people. Let's enjoy some friendly, smutty holiday merry-making! ;D
Got all that? Okay, good! Now...
LET THE STUFFING BEGIN! (Pun totally intended, naturally...) |
Pairing: Minerva/Hooch
Kink: ben wa balls
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1k
There were trees glittering in every corner of the Great Hall. Candles burned above the staff table, moved to the center of the room to host the small gathering. The windows outside showed the flurry that had begun the night before and had completely snowed in the castle throughout the day. Above the candles, the roof sprinkled its own glittered flakes, turned gold in the light of the room and melting before they got to the table filled with all the delights of the holiday. Minerva raised her wine goblet to her lips and drank luxuriously. She’d hardly ever enjoyed a meal more.
Watching Rolanda across the table squirm discreetly in her seat sent tingles of pleasure along Minerva’s spine. To know the titillation she was experiencing with every shift in her chair as the meal continued and the desserts were served, the pain that accompanied trying to behave as if you weren’t about to climax right there in the Great Hall made Minerva bite her lip with the power of it. Occasionally she cast her practiced cold glance to the other woman to see the desperation and pleading in hers. Minerva forced herself not to blush.
Yes, she knew all too well the feeling of enduring a tedious obligation among colleagues and students while magic and delightful torture exploded under her robes, under her skirts, her stockings and knickers, tucked securely into her cunt by muscle contraction and will alone. She knew all too well what Rolanda was feeling, how full she felt, how every slide sent the slick, silver balls caressing her walls, rubbing against her clit.
Just thinking about it, as Dumbledore gleefully handed out and popped his own crackers made Minerva squirm in her own seat. She watched Rolanda clutch her napkin tightly in her fist as she forced herself to be in the moment, politely refuse a cracker, convincingly show delight at others’ discoveries. All the time pleasure filled every fiber of her, needing so badly to be released. Minerva felt it as if she too was experiencing it.
When Rolanda grasped at her goblet and greedily drank the wine from it, Minerva knew that she was close to bursting. The need for climax, the need to stop the sensations almost painful as she sucked down the drink, as if hoping to drown in its sweetness. And when she had drained the contents, instead of putting the glass down, she used it to mask her desperate pants.
Minerva was almost as dizzy with her own need as Rolanda was by the time everyone started trickling out of the Great Hall. She knew Rolanda would not be able to move off her seat, would not be able to release the muscles holding the balls in place without a much delayed orgasm. So they sat, and they waited and they cursed under their breaths for Dumbledore to stop his nattering and Sybil to just pocket the half empty bottles of mead, wine and sherry and totter off already.
The moment the room had cleared, Minerva was on her feet, waving her wand, locking the doors, dimming the candles. She slid in between Rolanda and the table, sitting at the edge of the table, her legs raised, her feet planted on Rolanda’s seat.
“I trust you’ve learned your lesson?” Minerva asked, trying to sound cool and detached while fearing her own need was as easy to detect as the aroma of Rolanda’s.
Rolanda nodded her head vigorously, biting her lip painfully.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Minerva asked.
“Yes, Mistress, I have.”
“And what was the lesson?”
Rolanda was panting, and her entire face was flushed, but she got out with very little stammer. “Never bet against The Scottish National Quidditch team.”
“Correct. You are learning,” she said with professorial enthusiasm. “You have fulfilled your debt for losing, now, are you ready to award me my prize for winning?”