My head is getting away from me with ideas…
This drawing is a total mess, but alas. The purpose of inktober is to make a drawing a day and get the creative juices flowing, I suppose – just like with NaNoWriMo, the goal isn’t perfection, but getting things done. Which is why I don’t even start scanning my sketches and drawings in to clean them up digitally and hide the mistakes and fuck-ups (although I do plan to realize some of them as digital paintings later on and get rid of pen-slips).
Is it very obvious, by the way, that I really have a thing for gags? It’s not only in my drawings but in my writing too. This one is an illustration of a scene in Sharing Claire. I reread it to remember the details, and I have to admit that I was a little hot and bothered afterwards. Read on for a snippet!
Excerpt from Sharing Claire
Thorn turns away from her after planting her there with her face towards the small table, where the punisher chest sits, blocking her view as he rummages around in the open box and withdraws something. She’s looking up at his face as he turns back, captivated by the warmth in his eyes, so she doesn’t see the dildo in his hands at first. But when she does, her throat makes an odd sound and her tongue moves fruitlessly, incapable of forming words. The silicone dildo is huge and her least favorite, due to its size.
“Don’t worry, if you’ll be good, you won’t have to take that one in.” Thorn has seen her reaction, and he knows what it means. Claire is glad for that, but the dildo in his hand still worries her. He goes down on one knee before her, nudging her knees farther apart with just a brush of his knuckles against her thighs. Then he places the dildo below her, pressing its suction base against the floor to secure it, and clasps her hips, guiding her to lower herself until she feels the tip of the dildo against her entrance.
Thorn cups her chin and makes her look at him. “Stay exactly like that, darling. If the dildo goes in past its head, there will be consequences, understood?”
Claire already feels the strain of the position, feels the muscles in her thighs harden, and she has to draw in her pelvic floor and tighten her abs to remain exactly like he said. But she nods, hoping she won’t have to suffer too long. Thorn smiles and gets up, waggling his eyebrows at Blake.
As both men grin at each other, Claire pants and fights to maintain her pose. They don’t even look at her while she struggles, while her muscles knot and she starts sweating, adding perspiration to the mingle of fluids already on her skin. Blake’s cum is slowly trickling to the floor, leaving a cool trail on her stomach. She feels it running along her slit before it drips down to form a puddle with her drool and sweat. Claire groans and fights the pain in her knees and thighs, and fights the urge to just sink down onto the dildo and fill the aching emptiness inside her, to give her muscles something to clench around.
Thorn leaves for the kitchen to prepare two espressos, and Claire stares to the floor, determined to ignore Blake, his open glee upon her suffering, and his greed. Determined not to fail this simple enough task. She’s a rider; she has good, strong muscles in her thighs. She won’t just sink down, despite the strain in her legs and the hunger for stimulation and pressure in her cunt. She allows herself a glance at the direction of the kitchen to make sure that Thorn’s still occupied, before she raises herself up just enough to put the tip of her shoes against the floor and pull the heels up before she lowers herself again to rest her behind against her heels. The studs and spikes press against her sensitive ass, and it’s a torture in its own right, one she’s sure Thorn planned from the moment on he chose those shoes for her, but it allows her to relax her thighs for a tiny moment. It’s a different strain now, on her feet and shins, it feels like sitting on a bed of nails, and she sits lower like that. The head of the dildo pushes past her folds, stretches her cunt as it enters her, and she hopes she’s not allowing it in too far, for she doesn’t want to find out what consequences Thorn has in mind.
Soon the relief of her changed position is pushed back by the increasing pain of the spiked heels boring into her skin, and she’s pumping and grunting and sweating like a horse when Thorn finally returns. The puddle around her knees steadily grows.
He sets a tray down on the couch table and extends a small cup for Blake before he sits down himself. Sipping his espresso, he watches her, intently, as if he’s waiting for Claire to collapse and impale herself, giving him a reason to come up with new infamies. Her thighs shake, but she holds herself up, even though the head of the dildo stretching her makes her so much more aware of the aching emptiness inside her. She rolls her hips almost imperceptibly, but all it does is heighten her arousal.
Thorn sets his cup down, with measured movements, before he gets up and steps before her, feet apart so he doesn’t step into the puddle of fluids before her. Claire’s breath quickens.
“You love this, don’t you?” he asks, his voice a low growl that sends tingles across her skin.