I find it deliciously taboo how C.S. Lewis weaves sexual innuendo into his writing for children as he does in the quote above, from his Chronicles of Narnia series. Mingling youth and eroticism, submission and consent... It sets my nerve endings in all my intimate places afire.
I'm exploring this more lately: age play and a fetish for control, the push and pull of submission and domination. It starts with a request from an irresistible friend, a dominatrix with a plan for how she wants me to serve her. It's an offer I can't refuse: come to the studio at said day and time prepared to submit to her lust. And, there's another twist, she will bring with her a male accomplice.
She ushers him up the stairs and orders him to the center of the room, then demands that I undress him. I'm hesitant, at first, it's too naughty. But she is firm and salaciously persuasive.
I obey. I obey when she commands that we stand face to face within an inch of each other. I can feel his breath while she works the rope between and around us until we are thoroughly bound to her will. I obey when she leads us both up to the bed, tells me to lay, and tells him to watch what she does to me from the cage at the foot of the bed.
She holds me back from finishing, telling me there's still so much punishment she has in store for me. I'm a spoiled brat to her, my feminine muse, and I want her to devour me. I'd sooner be eaten by her than fed by anyone else.