York Kink

“York Kink”

by J.D. Savanyu

Sitting here in a wooden pew in York cathedral, admiring the amazing architecture. I write lots of dark kinky sex stories back home in America, so I figured I should see some old-school gothic stuff in England during my spring break. I’m also going out to lots of pubs; getting buzzed on dark beer and finding some hot redhead ladies to get freaky with. Getting lots of “inspiration.”

I gaze up at the huge stained glass windows, nearly a thousand years old.

Everywhere I turn, there’s another masterful piece of religious design. Reminding me that I’ve been wasting my life, accomplishing very little and fooling around with too many worthless women. I lower my gaze back down to the floor, and see a gorgeous twenty-something with long flaming red hair, in a cute black dress. Her pale freckled face is gazing right back at me, with a sly grin on her full red lips. I’m used to havinglots of women check me out, being the kind of guy that no girl can resist. But in a cathedral? Damn, this ginger has gotta be nuts. She strolls towards me with flirtatious body language.

“This is such a beautiful cathedral, eh luv?” she utters in a sweet Yorkshire accent.

“Stunning. Captivating. Just like you,” I add playfully, making her giggle. These celtic northern regions have the best redheads in the world, with big green doe eyes and cute pouty schoolgirlish expressions. Just like Faye Reagan, my favorite porn star.

“Aw, thanks. You don’t have a British accent, and you’re wearing a VCU Rams sweater, so I’m guessing you’re a tourist from the States?”

“Brilliant deduction, Holmes.”

“That’s my name, Actually. Molly Holmes.”

“Nice to meet you, Molly. I’m Jake Stanley.”

She sits down next to me on the pew with an eager expression, tossing her ginger bangs. I tell her that I’m an English major back in Richmond, and I’m staying in a hotell right across the street from York Minster. Molly was born and raised in York, currently working as a waitress.

“Would you like to have a pint with me at the Black Swan Inn?” Molly asks boldly, sending my jaw down to the ancient stone floor.

“Wow. I’ve only been here for one day, and a girl is already asking me out on a date. In a cathedral, no less.”

She giggles again. “If I see a guy I really like, I go for him right away. No matter where I am.”

“I love that c’est la vie attitude, Miss Holmes.”

Molly leads me out of York Minster, into a cool misty October evening. I laugh in disbelief, with my rational mind warning me this bitch is nothing but trouble. But my dick demands satisfaction, and it always wins out. We stroll downhill through the iconic Shambles district, full of quirky shops in quaint Tudor wattle-and-daub buildings. The narrow winding cobblestone lanes are closed to traffic, and loaded with Millennial british girls. Natural redheadsgalore, driving me insane with desire.

We soon arrive at The Black Swan Inn, a classic English pub with faux gas lamps and fox hunt paintings on the walls. We sip a pair of stouts at a table in a quiet corner.

“So what do you do besides waiting tables?”

“I read lots of romance stories,” Molly says eagerly, twirling her flamencos.

“I write lots of romance stories. Well… not really ‘romance’. BDSM stuff, mostly.”

“I’m a big Fifty Shades fan,” she replies, pulling a copy of that god-awful book out of her pink pursuit.

“I can’t stand shit like Fifty Shades. I write real hardcore kink, with lots of comedy mixed in.”

“Humor makes it hotter.”

“In literature, and in the real world.”

“Do you get kinky much in the real world?”

“Oh yeah. I’ve dominated half the girls in the VCU English department.”

“Wow. I guess the other half dominated you.”

“I usually don’t fall for dommes. I’m too damn manly.”

“I usually don’t fall for dommes. I’m too damn manly.”

“You sure are, luv,” she coos playfully. “Have you published your stories anywhere?”

“Only on Literotica, for free. My style is too quirky for the paywall sites and the traditional publishing houses.”

“I love quirky guys who don’t give a shit what people think about them. I’m gonna check out your stuff right now, Mister Stanley.”

She pulls out her phone and pulls up my author page on Literotica; browsing through the catchy titles and loglines of my various submissions. “You got a lot of range, Jake. Kinky bunny girls, sitcom parodies, granny bondage, billionaire incest, and barely legal Britney Spears.”

“I love wandering around in the meta-verse. Taking things from my own life, and throwing in a bunch of shit that has nothing to do with me.”

“That’s what the best writers do. Hey, this one looks really interesting. ‘Croatian Kink.’ ‘Dominating a Dirty Dubrovnik Chick.’”

“That’s my personal favorite, because it’s all true. I went to Dubrovnik last year during my spring break, and had a great fling with a local blonde. That’s where they filmed Game of Thrones, but we got a lot crazier than the Targaryens.”

“Ooh, sounds like smoking fun. I’m totally reading that, right now.”

Molly leans back in the wooden pub booth below a painted portrait of Prince Albert, perusing my six-page BDSM work. Clearly enjoying the rough public bondage sex scene in a dark medieval alley on New Year’s Eve. She hums pleasantly under her breath, then she reaches down and masturbates slowly over her black dress. Holy shit.

“Damn, Jake. That story got me so hot!”

“The real thing was even hotter. Words can’t do it justice.”

She giggles naughtily, gazing deep into my eyes in the ambient old-school pub lighting.

“Hey, let’s get out of here and do some of our own ‘role-playing,” she beams.

“Hell yeah. My hotel room has a great backdrop for ‘theatrics.’”

Molly leads me back out into the mistynight. Full of anticipation for domination. Trying like hell not to get hard in public. A Shambles street musician plays “Memories” from Cats on a saxophone, while a pair of real cats fight loudly in a nearby alley. The Dean’s Court hotel is nestled in the shadow of mighty church spires. The cute blonde receptionist grins warmly at us.

“Have a good night, Mister Stanley!” she beams in a lilting Yorkshire accent.

“He sure will, luv!” Molly snickers as we step into a nearby elevator. As soon as the door closes, she shoves her tongue down my throat. Raising my dick instantly to a full seven inches. We anxious down a hallway with creaky old floorboards, and burst into room 407, with a great view of the illuminated bell tower through a picture window.

“Get naked, bitch,” I grunt while opening my suitcase, assuming my usual gruff master character.

“Yes sir, Mister Stanley,” she giggles. She quickly removes her black dress while I pull out a bag full of kinky toys. By the time I find my favorite pair of pink leather restraints, her black bra and panties are on the floor. A nice pair of milky white tits with pointy pink nipples, and an awesome fire crotch between wide lean smoothly curved hips.

“Damn, you’re the hottest redhead I ever saw.”

“I bet says to all the silly gingers you shag,” she giggles.

“Shut the fuck up,” I grunt While grabbing my favorite pink leather riding crop. “You better be a good girl, and follow my instructions to the letter.”

“As you wish, Lord Stanley.”

“I love those proper British manners,” I chairle. “Now reach up and grab that chandelier.”

She stretches her slender arms as high as she can, barely able to grab the brass bars. I fasten the pink leather restraints firmly around her wrists and the chandelier.

“There you go, ginger. You look like a porn parody of Lady Gaga.”

“She’s my favorite Harley Quinn. Everyone hates that movie except me.”

“And me,” I mutter while grabbing my favorite leather whip. A two-proged “dragon tail” with dull aluminum spikes on each end, and “Daddy’s Little Slut” written in fancy golden script on the shake.

“I am your little slut, Daddy,” she giggles.

I swing that dragon nice and hard, right on her perky pink nipples.

“Oh fuck!” Molly shrieks delightfully. “Make it hurt, Mister Stanley!”

I whip her big boobs five more times. She wails delightfully, like a cat in heat.

“I better gag that pretty mouth, or else the Bobbies will come knocking on the door.”

I grab a pink ball gag, shove it through her bright red lips, and fasten the pink leather straps against her red hair.

“Hell yeah, bitch. Those pink straps look great on your pale frozen body.”

“Huu-hu-huuh,” she giggles through that cute rubber ball. I whip her tits six more times, and she shudders while laughing.

“You think that’s funny, eh?”

“Uh-hu-hu-huuh!”

“I got a better ‘punchline’ for ya.”

I grab a thick leather slapper from my suitcase and slap it loudly against her firey pussy.

“Keep that laugh track going, bitch! This is way fucking better than The Neighborhood.”

I keep waiting away on her twat, feeding it plenty of leather. My dick nearly bursts right through my zipper.

Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap!

“Oooh-wa-phuu-GAAAH!”

“What’s that? You want me to stop?”

“Uh-uhh!” she growls, shaking her head “no.”

“You want me to whip your pussy harder?”

“Uh-huuuh!”

“With pleasure. I’ll whip that twat so hard, you’ll be limping down the Shambles tomorrow.”

Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap! Whaap!

Her giggling turns to loud moaning, and she reaches an epic climax, squirting all over the floorboard of my hotel room.

“Good girl, cumming on the whip. You really love pain.”

“Uh-huuuuh!” Molly agrees emphatically, huffing and puffing with spottle oozing through her tightly stretched lips.

“I ain’t done puzzle you, ginger. That milky ass is becoming for a good spanking.”

“Uh-huuuuh!”

My favorite pink leather spanking paddle is embossed with “OBEDIENT BITCH.” I whack it loudly against her pale freckly heart-shaped rump, making Molly shriek like an Irish banshee. I love how her ass cheeks ripple with every blow.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

“OoooohhhWOOOOF!” she groans gutturally through the gag, shaking her head emphatically.

“All spanked out, eh?”

“Uhh-huh!” she nods “yes.”

“All that punishment got your yankee daddy so horny. I’m gonna fuck your pretty face.”

I unbuckle the pink leather restraints from the chandelier, and her hands abruptly drop against her naked hips, smacking them yet again. She gets down on her knees, and I fasten a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs on her wrists against her pussy. Then I shove my cock through her open lips, skullfucking her with my usual manly brutality. Gagging her over and over, with spottle oozing all over her naked torso.

“Choke on that big american cock, bitch! You’re my favorite ginger cunt.”

“Ooophhwoo!”

“I’m gonna write a good kinky story about you. Lots of guys will jerk off while reading it, wishing they were in York instead of New York.”

“Uhhuhhoooph,” Molly laughs awkwardly, taking me right down her throat. I smack her cheeks for the hell of it, making her laugh louder. Then I grab her head with both hands and whip it back and forth real fast on my dick. She growls fiercely just like me, in a blur of red hair and white skin. I let go at the first inkling of orgasm, and she moans in dizzy ecstasy.

“Who gives a shit about the Bobbies. I wanna hear you scream.”

I unfasten the ball gag from her mouth, andshe gasps like an optical diver resurfacing.

“Holy shiiiiiiit. I need to get fucked hard, right now. In bondage!”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll turn this hotel room into a dungeon with a fine cathedral view.”

I grab a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs from my suitcase, then I drag her naked whipped-up body towards a picture window with an old-fashioned radiator heater in front, four stories above Petergate Drive. She giggles sweetly as I lock one cuff around her left wrist, loop the chain under a hot radiator grill, and lock the other cuff around her right wrist.

“There you go, you copper-headed whore. Locked up in a medieval bell tower, like Quasimodo’s kink doll.”

“Pound my slutty pussy, Lord Stanley.”

I grab her reddened ass cheeks and slam my penis up her dripping wet vagina.

“Oh god, just like that! Keep hammering my g-spot!” she orders loudly. I thrust away in a rapid elliptical pattern, balls to the wall. Smacking her ass over and over and over, like all the other worthless girls I’ve banged stateside.

“God damn, you naughty pixie doll. Picking up hot guys in a fucking cathedral.”

“I’m so fucking naughty. Shut up and pull my red hair!”

I grab those shiny ginger bangs and yank her head upward, forcing her to gaze out at York cathedral. Hundreds of tourists congregate in the public square fifty feet below, admiring the medieval gothic masterpiece. What if one of those tourists happens to turn around and look up at this free BDSM sex show? The sense of danger makes this even hotter, risking a night in jail with a bunch of soccer hooligans.

I fuck and spank her harder, going for broke. We both break a good sweat with the rising heat from the radiator, on a cool autumn evening.

“Take that big fucking dick, ginger! I’m gonna eat that hot body!”

I lean down and nibble her pale sweaty freckled neck. She squeals delightfully.

“Keep biting me, baby. Just how I like it!”

I keep nibbling her neck and shoulders, then I wrap my hands around her throat and fuck her like a jackhammer. Literally bouncing off her heart-shaped ass.

“Fuck yeah, choke me like your little fuck slave. Fuck me harder, boy! Make me cum, make me cum, mmmmmmAAAAAAH!”

She squirts like hell against the metal radiator grills, gushing gloriously. Her guttural groaning soon pushes my balls to the breaking point.

“Get down on your knees, bitch!”

She whirls around and drops down on the creaky floorboards. I grab her red hair with my left hand, yanking her face up toward my face. Jerking off frantically with my dominant right hand. My face contors grotesquely, with major pressure boiling in my prostate.

“Oh god, I got a big one coming. Beg for it, bitch.”

“Please give me some cum.”

“Louder!”

“Please blow a big load all over my pretty face!”

“Awww yeah, awww yeah, hooooowuuuZZZAAAHHHH!”

A massive wad hits her forehead like a fire hose. She yelps in slight pain, then bursts into more girlish giggling. A gallon of jizz avalanches over her big tits, flat belly and red hairy pussy.

“Mmm, yummy,” she beams, licking it off her lips. “Clotted cream is my favorite midnight snack.”

“God daaaamn, you crazy fucking biiiiitch!” I groan breathlessly, still jerking off at full speed. I free her from bondage a minute later. She grabs my dick and jerks it off towards her open mouth.

“Molly needs more milk,” she groans. She doesn’t stop jerking until I shoot another wad right onto her outstretched tongue. She fingers all that splooge into her mouth, blowing big nasty cum bubbles. I stumble backward and collapse onto a velvet sofa in complete exhaustion. She sits on my lap and kisses me tenderly.

“That was fucking awesome, Jake.”

“Best sex I ever had, at least on this side of the pond.”

“You’ve had better on the other side?”

“Hard to say. My college years have been a total blur, with lots of boring English major books and hot kinky bitches.”

“You better not forget about me, Lord Stanley.”

“How can I ever forget a perfect ten like you?”

“I bet you say that to all the silly gingers you shag.”

“Crazy fucking bitch,” I leader dreamly. I squeeze her big creamy hotters, making her laugh and moan yet again.

“Naughty boy. You need a good domme to teach you some proper British manners.”

“Hell yeah. You’re the kind of girl who can break my wild spirit.”

“Damn right. I’ll tie you up first thing in the morning, and whip the shit out of you, and fuck your brains out. And then I’ll serve you breakfast in bed, in bondage.”

“A full English breakfast, with baked beans and all that shit?”

“As you like it.”

“I might grow to like it.”