Thanks to MistressLilyana and SensualSadist

I also posted this on my Buzz feed, but I liked it so much I am reposting it here.Today is my birthday. I have found I usually write things for other people. I write to seduce readers or to talk about a specific event involving someone or to explore some idea someone has inspired. Sure, I am always writing with my gaze, with my desires in the forefront, but I don’t often trust myself to write my actual fantasies. I have to to filter things through other characters. I also write scenarios and try to have at least some basis in the truth. (Alice in Wonderland smut aside.) I write as a way to communicate with readers, be they specific people or in general.

Well as a birthday exercise here is something just for me. Here is pure Jack fantasy.

Photo by jfravel/ / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Academia

Alright, so I am an English professor at a small, wealthy, prestigious, but relatively off the radar private college in Connecticut. I also coach the women’s field hockey team.

I learn of a rivalry between some of the girls on my team and a group of the library science students. The Women’s Library Science Study Group is lead by a pack of über geek girls, one of which is a five foot tall ginger haired hacker.

It turns out that cattiness and practical jokes that have been common have given way to more serious aggression as my field hockey girls (who are mostly tall and a little chubby and heavenly R. Crumb wet dreams) soon learn that the Women’s Library Science Study Group has hacked into their computers and found some very incriminating and shockingly explicit videos of the girls having a rather heated slumber party shenanigans involving liquor and all manner of sex toy.

Since my team means a lot to me, I have to step in as both an academic advisor and friend.

I train the girls over the course of a weekend in some covert tactics and takedown maneuvers. We then break into the dorms and silently abduct the Women’s Library Science Study Group bringing them back to my huge, luxurious loft. Thankfully the thick concrete walls make it nearly soundproof, which is nice when my math rock band practices on weekends.

We have the seven sleep eyed and frightened young librarian-to-bes tied up in fine Romanian hemp and immobile on one of the many rugs I purchased on my last trip to India. Their leader is suspended from a beam running across the ceiling and she is stares daggers at me.

I tell the eight members of my team to stand back and then proceed to torture the hacker girl until she tells me where all the copies of the video are. The flogger, the cane, various breast torture and eventually malicious teasing of her pussy get her to talk. I send out some of my girls to get back the info and then continue on, trying to find the root of the aggression.

I notice that watching the torture left my team on edge, all of them red faced and shifting in their seats with two of the more extroverted girls passionately kissing and fondling each other as they watched.

After interrogating the other LS students I find out that the hacker girl is in love with my main hooker, Simone, a French transfer who is certainly the most delicate on the team, but still very tough.

Simone, clad in thigh high socks and a skirt with a man’s cotton tank top, is shocked, saying that she had a crush on the hacker girl as well. The redhead, whose name is Kate, explains that she went over to Simone’s room one night to ask her out and found her masturbating to one of my many award winning books of erotica, screaming out my name as she climaxed. She thought that Simone was was in love with me and thus wouldn’t be interested in her.

Simone admitted having a crush on me, but explained that all the girls on the team had found out about my illustrious erotica publishing career and the various awards I had won and had started a secret book share. As well they had occasional orgies where they read my stories while fucking each other in every imaginable manner.

Simone went on to say that she was very interested in Kate and would have accepted a date with her. Simone’s love for me was purely sexual and intellectual.

We untie the young library science students, all of whom apologized for the blackmail plot and admitted that they all really enjoyed being tied up and beaten by me. They also admitted to loving my work and explain that most of their study sessions were actually group masturbation sessions about me and my writing.

The night descends into debauchery, the tension between the Girl’s Field Hockey Team and the Women’s Library Science Study Group transforming into sexual frenzy.

The librarians decide they need some pay back, so I help them tie up the field hockey girls and we proceed to punish them. Then everyone is untied and forms a giant sex pile. This goes on for hours and hours, a sexual whirlwind with me at the eye of the storm.

I keep going until I am spent, seven times over. I pass out on a bed of wet thighs, drenched in matriculating hormones.

I awaken with a start, my arms and legs bound. A wild eyed girl looking down at me with a smile just before my face is covered by a wet freshly waxed pussy. I am helpless as each girl uses me in turn, one riding my face while another rides my cock and all around me I hear the moans of those who are next being primed by their new friends.

Afterward I become the adviser to the Library Science Study Group and a sort of sexual guru to all of the girls. Fucking me becomes a rite of passage for pretty much all intelligent and/or field hockey proficient women in the school and a few select pretty boys as well.

Eventually I start my own erotica publication company, which I later mainstream into including edgy postmodern and supermodern works. The New York Times calls it “The most intriguing and provocative line of books in the last 20 years and the first to successfully merge erotica and literary fiction.”

I also start a bondage fight club. I move back to Manhattan and get a huge Brownstone in the Park Slope.

I die at 80, drown in the Seine by a jealous lover, or so the papers write.

Welcome to e[lust] - your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #9? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

This Week’s Top Three Posts

This Isn’t Play. . . BDSM and Rape – The very basic principle that we hold so dear in BDSM play, “Nothing without consent” seems to stand in stark contrast to a very common form of play, “Rape Play”.

Half-Full – When I get my ass beaten, is it as much for the sensation as it is for the “Good girl…I knew you could take that for me.” that I want so badly at the close of the scene?

House Party Part 2 -His wife walked by at one point and he cryptically asked her to “do what she did to so-and-so earlier”. His wife disappeared behind me, but I felt her hands touching me and his cock as it entered me.

e[lust] Editress

Backseat Orgasms - We kissed lightly and without focus, both a sensual act and maddening at the same time. More, I needed more. In a blur I was on my knees on the seat, straddling his leg, his mouth latched onto one nipple and his fingers hunting for the key to undoing my dress pants.

Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick)

Are You Watching Me? – A plan of devious proportions begins to form. Before this is over with, I will have forced you into a corner…forced you to act…forced you to give ME what I want.

(I’d just like to say, for the record, that I should have won. – Jack)

See also: Pleasurists #64 and 65 for all your sex toy review needs.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Erotic Writing

A story of FL
Contemplation
Cuddling
Floor Exercises
Good day for a milking
Goodbye
G-Spot Orgasms Galore – Part 2
Initiation
Logan
Mark. Confession #423
Mouth
Nothing says I love you quite like…
Playful and Dangerous
Play your part
Plotter
Splish Splash
The Library Hotel
The Secret I Couldn’t Keep
Triple X
Three A.M. Surprise

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Anatomy of Desire (PT. Two)
Better Cautious Than Raped
Lingerie Tales Vol 1 An Obsession Begins
My life as a gamer’s slave
Perplexed
Saturday Texting
So Simple
The Elusive Female Orgasm
The G Spot Mouse or How To Make A Woman Squirt
Transtastic: On Language

Kink & Fetish

A No Limits Slave?
Are Discipline and Punishment The Same?
BDSM Advice Series: Pet Play
Bondage 101—Part 1: Bondage Basics
Breaking the Demons
Dark/DirtyBlog Crush
Factory Doll
Hand vs. toys
I’m on a book cover: ‘The Punishment List’ by Abel
Kink
Men as sex objects
Rough Porn
Raleigh and La Fortress
Savouring the texture of my skin with his teeth
The Way They Look At Me
The Slut Chronicles #13 The Auction
Whither the spankosphere?

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Happy Valentines Day!
Hookers, Catholic School Students and Facebook
Lane Bryant Makes Puppies and Kittens Cry
Pussy Cosmetics and Vagina Myths

I don’t really get turned on my being a “master” to someone. I don’t necessarily like when people do what I want out of respect or need to serve. I like to make people do what I want out of fear, pain or desire to get something. Or, you know, consensual force and/or extortion. Dominance and submission are much more tied into sex and sadism with me, though when I trust someone a lot I do get into more emotional and psychological aspects of DS.

I am writing this all to give you a feel for my general attitude towards power. I do this to now explain the exceptions.

I like eating pussy. I don’t mean that in the way some men say they like eating pussy because it is just something boys say to be looked at as good lovers. This is something integral to my personality. Note: I certainly do not see oral sex as an inherently “bottom” activity. You can go down on someone from either side of the collar, so to speak. A big thing for me is “making” someone come. I like to be in control of that and responsibly for that and be able to give it or take it away. It’s a big turn on for me.

Let me take you back to high school. I had this best friend who identified as a lesbian, but had occasionally been with boys. We were very good friends. We were in fact best friends in that intense hyper high school friend way. We were part of an incestuous little group of wannabe intellectuals who smoked cloves and went to spoken word poetry nights and were scared people would figure out we really didn’t get a lot of the Chomsky we were reading.

Well, being sexual people and close friends and horny teenagers we slipped into a very weird relationship. That being, for four or five months I would go over her house every day after school and go down on her for (literally) an hour or two and then we would listen to The Doors and I would go home.

We attempted “penis-in-vagina” sex once or twice, but it just didn’t work. She wasn’t into penetration, at least not from me. She did enjoy my oral skills though and was very vocal about telling me how to improve them. She was also very multi-orgasmic and so these long sessions were wet and wild and loud as hell.

Looking back I realize that there were a lot of power dynamics going on during these encounters. Though it wasn’t talked about or even really consciously thought about (at least on my part), she was very much in charge. I was there to service her. She laid back and I got on my knees and I basically licked and sucked until my jaw and tongue were aching. She came and came, dozens of times. I got off on knowing that I was making her come.

Though it wasn’t the first time I’d been intimate with a woman on a regular basis (I had a pretty sexual youth), it was the first time I really got to see a vagina, spread out, in the light, no shyness or back seat fumbling. I got to explore it, I got well articulated feedback without any shame or discomfort.

I’ve never been in a relationship like that since, but similar feelings have been stirred up lately when I played around with something the kids call Queening.

I’ve been in the position of having a girl sit on my face before, I enjoy it, but recently when M and I were playing around in bed and I brought up that maybe she should do that, it suddenly turned into something very different.

The dynamics of M and I are fun. I am the daddy type top and she is the sometimes timid and often bratty little girl bottom. These are roles we slipped into nearly immediately upon meeting and play around with in a variety of ways that we both find hugely entertaining.

Bratty and rambunctious are one thing, but as we started playing that night it felt a little different. I felt different and she had a new glint in her eye.

With my arms sort of pinned down by her knees and my body mostly ignored because she was facing forward, she ground her pussy into my mouth. I tried to keep up, not exactly used to the pussy being pushed at me. I sucked when I could and licked what I could and pushed my tongue into available places, but she was very much in control. Then she grabbed my hair and moved up a little so that the chubby lips of her vagina were coving my mouth and nose.

She pushed her weight down a little more. I felt my body tighten. All I could smell and taste were her juices and the smoothness of her waxed lips against my slightly stubbly face. My cock was untouched, but rock hard and throbbing.

When she finally pulled away a little I gasped for breath and she laughed. Playful, but wicked.

Then she pulled up, hovering just out of reach and I strained and whimpered.

I remember thinking, “what the fuck? Did I just whimper?”

I went with it. It was a little hard letting go. I wanted to, though. All I wanted was to taste more and have all my senses overwhelmed by her cunt again.

I pushed out a little “please” and she lowered herself slowly to let me lap at her again.

The sex afterwards was ridiculously hot.

The minute she was off of me though, I was back in charge. Even more than before because now it was payback. We both knew it and we both enjoyed it.

Still, the idea of it makes me shudder and I like that. The idea of being overwhelmed by something so intimate. Nothing in my world except her pussy and my need and requirement to please her by licking it. I like knowing in what ways I can let myself be vulnerable. I like knowing in which ways submission is arousing to me. It’s a side of myself that is murky and weird and, in a lot of ways, much more physical than emotional.

The thing was, she was young. Very young. Certainly legal, but still, I really should have been ashamed of myself. I was a thirty-two year old man! It started out so simply though. She sent me a picture because I wrote something silly like, if a picture is worth a thousand words than a thousand words must be worth a picture.

It was almost cliche, the dorm room nude. Bad lighting, bitten lip, interesting angles. There is a very immediate and contemporary intimacy about it, something both forbidden and accessible. Innocent and slutty.

She is short, tiny actually. Waist insanely small, hips flaring out and tits that are ridiculous. It would be silly to say that I’m not obsessed with her breasts. Her dimensions almost seem impossible.

When I received said pictures I replied with thanks and not much more, really. A while later I was looking through my email and those pictures popped up again. It was a purely physical reaction, I hit reply and asked if she was near NYC because I “kinda wanted to make out with you or something” in that was I try to be very forward so that it is comical and yet still very forward. This is classic Jack.

She replied that she was in college upstate, but she did come in to the city occasionally, in fact she would be there that weekend. I mentioned that I would like to meet her if she had time. Maybe just a walk in the park, maybe a kiss.

There was something in her tone, though. Her emails were specifically vague about the who and what her trips to the city were about. Vague in that way that I knew it demanded a little more investigation.

“So what exactly do you do in the city?”

She stalled, telling me specifics, but not the answer. She goes to museums. She goes to fancy restaurants. She seems movies.

“With whom do you do all of these wonderful things?”

Ah, there is the rub. A man. An older man. Older than me and I already felt like a fiend for attempting this liaison. An older man with children and a career and a vicious ex wife. A wealthy man with a powerful job.

Once the cat was out of the bad the details poured out of her. She was obviously waiting to tell someone all about her hidden life. She liked being a secret, but like tell secrets almost as much. She told me how she was his pet and his little secret and how he cuddled and kissed her, how he spanked and rode her. She told me about her love of being marked up and walking around sore the next day.

There was drama, too. He had many other girls he played with. He didn’t hide his other liaisons from her, but she tried not to ask and he tried not to tell. Still when they were alone she was all his and for the most part he was all hers.

The emails went back and forth fast and furious. We told the stories of our lovers and friends. She sent more pictures. The vitality and exuberance of youth. Her room became a familiar place and her girlish crooked smile and lush body became things I looked forward to every time I checked my mail.

The plan was forming and it was a bit of an odd plan. We were just supposed to meet. I knew she had that risque appointment, but she had a few hours to kill beforehand. We were going to go to Central Part. A safe place, we could sit and talk, nothing more.

When she got to the city it was raining. The city was a wet mess of black and gray and so what other choice did I have? I got a cab. I told her we were going to my place. She didn’t say yes or no, really, she just followed me.

I knew she was short, but in person five feet is impressively tiny. She wore things I told her to wear. Thigh highs, a skirt. When we walked to get the cab my hand was on her waist and then her hip and I felt around for the line of her panties. Nothing. Smooth hip. I groaned as I felt her hip and she knew that I knew.

In the cab she was blushing.

It was too soon. We really shouldn’t have been going to my apartment. We’d emailed a lot, though. I felt comfortable. Plus she would be leaving in a few hours. Part of me really thought that we would kiss, talk, laugh. That other part of me knew exactly what would happen. These two parts of me are often at odds. The latter almost always wins.

We got to my apartment and I showed her around. We sat on my couch and she was shy and blushing and silent. This, of course, forced me to not be shy.

Sometimes I get into this mood were I am aggressive and kind of sarcastic and mocking. Teasing a girl about her desires and goading her into doing thing.

I put my hand on her knee and I kissed her. She turned away. Now I wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted, maybe I was being too forward. I kissed her neck and she sighed, I loved my hand up her skirt and she gasped. I touched the very tip her her thigh, edging near heat and wetness, but I didn’t touch yet.

I moved away and watched her squirm. Then I moved in and took a hungry handful of her breasts.

Really, they are perfect. They might be the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen. I’ve been with girls with large breasts before and indeed I love breasts of all sizes, but these are perfect. I felt the delicious weight of them. I pushed her back and squeezed them. She gasped.

This whole time there was a tugging in the back of my head. She was going to see “him” and so what was I doing? I slapped her breasts a little and she gave me one of the first glimpses of that glazed look in her eyes. That perfect combination of desire, shame and submission.

Some girls you hit and they like it. They squeal and laugh and ask for more. Some girls turn around and take it, like a mission. They grit their teeth and see how much they can handle. Girls like this, though, girls like this gave in to the pain with every inch of themselves. The groans are animal and they are hypnotized by the pain. They don’t like it, they need it. Every connection your hand makes, or your cane or your whip, completes them and being a part of that is something profound.

When I bent her over my couch and spanked her she froze. “No marks” she whispered at one point. It made me want to own her, brand her, whip her until she was black and blue, but I was good. This was just an appetizer. This was a first meeting and a brief one at that. Just a little playing.

I spanked her more. I knew the lines and I kept to them. That kind of spanking doesn’t leave marks. I watched her skin and how much she could take. When my fingers slipped into her she let out an animal groan. The want was palpable. Her body was so primed for sex. Young, wet, tight, bright, hungry, dirty, blushing and wanton.

My fingers searched inside of her. The differences in women is fascinating. She has a very prominent g-spot. It seemed swollen and my fingers curved to meet the little bumps and ridges of her cunt. She bucked and ground against my hand, her body far more lithe and tight then I imagined. She was already on her way, building as my fingers moved in and out, teasing and then tormenting that spot inside of her. When her hips started a slow steady rhythm I stopped.

The sound she made was perfect. A moan and a whine and a whimper.

When I left her I had no doubt she would stay put. The fact was I wished I had more time and more rope because I could only imagine the things she would have done if we had the means to take advantage of her in every way. She stayed put as I got a toy and some restraints. I bound her hands behind her back and she obediently kept her face down in the pillows of my couch. I bound her ankle together as well, loving the way the lips of her cunt peaked out from her closed legs.

The toy slipped in easily, surprisingly easily. Everything was easy with her, except for the kissing. She was eager, in body if not in mind. Her body didn’t have any of the shames or guilts her mind did. She wanted it all and she was wet for it.  Her cunt took everything I gave it.

The chemistry of affairs like this amaze me. I don’t know how everyone reacts but personally I see myself change so much depending on who I am with. She needed complete ownership. She needed to me manhandled and physically overpowered. She didn’t want to answer questions or play little games. Really, she couldn’t. She was as much under the control of her own body as she was under my control.

I worked the toy into her, pressing the curve of it so that it her her g-spot hard again and again. With most women this would be far too much stimulation, but she played rough, alone or with her little friend. I wanted too see how much she could take. It wasn’t long before her whines turned into sobs of pleasure. She turned to the left and the right because the pressure was going to make something big happen and she wasn’t sure she wanted it to.

She got nervous when she started to squirt. The wet drops on the floor between her legs made me smile. She moved around too much and I didn’t get to really watch the waterworks, but it is always so satisfying when they squirt, especially when they didn’t think they would.

I stepped back and was overcome with the desire to fuck her. Her wet thighs and her shallow breath. I could see her face, blushing and one breasts pressed perfectly against my pillow. Her powerlessness to her own need to be dominated was too powerful a aphrodisiac.

When I left her again and came back with the condoms I made sure she saw them. I made sure she heard the ripping of the package. I gave her time to say no, though I knew the word wasn’t in her vocabulary at this point. She might fight, she might struggle, she might do all sorts of things, but I don’t think there was anything I was capable of that she would really protest.

She shouldn’t fuck me. She knew it. She was going to meet him. She was going to be with him and do all sorts of things for hours, but here she was bent over my couch and saying nothing as I slipped the condom on. Saying nothing as I put my hands on her perfect ass. Saying nothing as I brushed the head of my cock against her slightly swollen and shockingly pink cunt.

I pulled up her head by her hair and I looked at her face. She wouldn’t really look me in the eye. My cock slipped against the wetness of her. I was looking for her answer.

Then I was sinking into her. Inch by inch into this new wetness.

We didn’t have time to play any more games. With her legs together and her ass in my hand and the restrictions making every moment taboo, things were moving quickly. The pleasure was distilled and intense. She moaned and whimpered as I pushing all the way into her. Her natural tightness and the added pressure of her legs bound together was intense and wild. She was so receptive to every thrust the whole thing quickly got out of my control. I started riding her fast, pulling her thick hips back and forth, the whole time looking down at much cock disappearing into her.

She just kept coming. I was almost jealous. Just getting fucked like this, bent over a couch, plus the dirtiness of knowing someone else would be doing the very same thing in a few hours. I watched her cycle through orgasms, her body tightening and her breath going faster and then suddenly stopping for a few seconds. I was enthralled, so much my own orgasm surprised me. There was no buildup, I just started coming, so hard I fell against her and grunted three time loud and guttural.

After I came I played with her a little more. She is a lovely plaything. I knew she had to go and so I let her get dressed.

After her orgasms and her fucking her whole demeanor changed. She wasn’t shy anymore, she was calm and playful. She hugged me and hung on me as I took her to the bus. Where she was once embarrassed to even hold my hand now she was pressed against me, kissing me as we waiting.

These were our first real kisses. She bloomed like a flower in the sunlight outside my apartment. She pressed against of me reveling in the spectacle of us kissing at the bus stop. My hand even sneaking up to cup her breasts for a moment.

The knowledge of where she was going made my feelings confusing. I reached some new place, though, some understanding. I relished the whole dirty little game. Though I was sure any meeting with her would have been intense, the situation had made things even hotter than I could have expected.

I knew as I kissed her one last time I would have her again, this time all mine for a day. I would play with this little toy for real and see every trick this little pet had to show me.

And with that she was gone.

Details
KinkForAll is an ad-hoc gathering born from the desire for people of all persuasions to share and learn in an open environment. It is a fast-paced event with discussions, presentations, and interaction from all participants. (It is inspired by the BarCamp community.)

ANYONE WITH SOMETHING TO CONTRIBUTE OR WITH THE DESIRE TO LEARN IS WELCOME AND INVITED TO JOIN. When you attend, be prepared to share with others. When you leave, be prepared to share it with the world.

A KinkForAll is a special kind of gathering because there are no spectators, only participants. Attendees must give a talk or a presentation, help with one, or otherwise contribute in some way to support the event. This is called sharing and we like it. All presentations are scheduled the day they happen—there are no pre-scheduled presentations or keynote addresses. The people present at the event will select the presentations they want to see.

Anyone can lead a session, on any topic related to sexuality. You do not necessarily have to teach a new skill or idea. You might share an experience, facilitate a discussion, or read a poem. The goal is to start a conversation, make connections (and maybe even friends), and exchange knowledge. Presentations promoting specific commercial products or companies are discouraged.

Learn more about what to expect at
wiki.kinkforall.org/WhatToExpect

Learn more about the event guidelines at
wiki.kinkforall.org/TheRulesOfKinkForAll

This activity is not sponsored by, associated with, or endorsed by Montgomery County Public Schools or Montgomery County Government.

Get Involved
We need your help in spreading the word. Please help by participating.

Here’s how:
1. Get excited by reading fellow participants’ topic ideas on
wiki.kinkforall.org/KinkForAllProvidence
2. Add your name or handle to the list of participants
3. Join the mailing list and introduce yourself by emailing
kinkforall@googlegroups.com
4. Show up!

Still have questions? Read the Frequently Asked Questions at
wiki.kinkforall.org/FrequentlyAskedQuestions

or email kinkforall@googlegroups.com for more details.

KinkForAll Online
Participate online before the event at your favorite social networking web site:

Homepage: wiki.KinkForAll.org
Google: groups.google.com/group/kinkforall
Twitter: twitter.com/KinkForAll
Identica: identi.ca/kinkforall
Facebook: www.facebook.com/pages/KinkForAll
Fetlife: fetlife.com/groups/2962

All organizational efforts are coordinated in public via the mailing list. Join for free and help turn ideas into realities!

groups.google.com/group/kinkforall

Do one of these exercises as a comment or email to me at mrjackstratton@gmail.com

They don’t have to be long, just enough to get the point across. I will credit you or not mention you, which ever you like. If you would like to be credited, include you name and that you’d like to be credited. I will assume anyone who doesn’t include that doesn’t want to be credited.

Thanks!

1. Articulation
Write a short essay or story to articulate a specific fantasy. Pick one thing you desire, an activity, a scene or scenario and explore where you would like to go with it in a detailed and explicit way. Picture the scene and imagine in what interesting ways it might grow. Take ideas to the next level and examine the roots of your desires and how they can more thoroughly be explored.

2. Seduction
Write a short essay or story to entice someone to do something you find arousing. Put your desired activity in the most appealing light to your reader. Think about what your reader(s) want and write about how your desires fit into their needs. Describe feelings and sensation while steering clear of specifics that your reader may be biased against or have preconceived notions about. Create intrigue and woo the reader by suggesting what you could do to make the activity even more pleasurable for them.

3. Negotiation
Write a short essay or story to arrange a scene that will satisfy all parties involved. Talk in depth about things you want to do while talking briefly but succinctly about what you don’t want to do. Elaborate on your desires and be forthcoming with things that you would be willing to compromise on as well as do in return. Ask questions that have more than yes or no answers. Asking if someone will do something will only get you a yes or no, asking under what circumstances someone might do something leaves the idea open for further negotiation.

4. Processing
Write a short essay or story to examine an activity, scene or scenario that you felt went either very well or very poorly. Write about what you liked about the scene in specific terms, as well as what you didn’t like. Explore why you felt it was success or unsuccessful and write about why you feel that way. Did something unexpected happen? What would you have changed? What would you like to explore further? How did it affect you?