Almost limitless

When it comes to sex, I’ve always had a fairly “anything goes” attitude. I’ve always been willing to try new things, I like to experiment, I like to have my boundaries pushed.

There is a difference, I think, between boundaries and limits. My boundaries have definitely expanded since I started on my sexual journey. My natural curiosity led me to try (and enjoy as it turned out) things like anal, sex with other women, group-sex, bondage, swinging, etc. I’ve had casual sex with both men and women, I get off on risky situations such as sex in fairly public place where there is a risk (to varying degrees) of getting caught. In my student days, I once even caught a night bus back from a club with a guy’s cum (albeit dried by the time the bus finally showed up) all over my face.

There is a thrill of trying new things, of experiencing new sensations in different circumstances. Far from being limits, my boundaries are simply things I haven’t tried. Some I have actively wanted to do, some I was less keen on trying, and some, up until I found myself doing them, I hadn’t even considered.

There are, however, a few things that I won’t do.

Anything involving scat/urine/blood is out.  While I have no problem (massive understatement) with anal, rimming is something I won’t do. Similarly, if a cock has been in my arse, even though a condom has been worn, it isn’t going anywhere else until it has had a bloody good wash.

One final thing: needles.  I have a pathological fear of them. I even have to get knocked out when I go to the dentist. So, they are an absolute no-no.

I don’t really have many limits, and those that I have are definitely hard, and, have remained constant from the very start.

Apart from those, as I said at the start, anything goes.

 

Head to head

There is a popular belief that when it comes to going down on a woman, those of us of a female persuasion are better than it than men. The theory seems to be that because we women have our own cunts and clits, and know how we like to have them treated, that this, somehow gives us some innate instinct or knowledge of how another woman will want her pleasure spots treated.

This argument is, of course, a complete load of bollocks.

If it were true, then on meeting a woman for the first time, not only would I know all of her turn-ons and desires, I’d also instinctively know what kind of films she likes, her favourite takeaway food and how many sugars she takes in her coffee. Clearly, this is not the case.

All of those examples are matters of personal taste and choice, and the way we women like to have another person go down on us is no different.

In truth, there is only one woman for whom I can say unequivocally and with absolutely certainly as to how she wants her cunt and clit licked, and that woman is me. And given how, depending on my mood, I want it treated in different ways, what chance have I got of knowing exactly what any potential recipient of my attentions is going to want,or vice versa for that matter?

I will let you into a little secret; I cheat…

How?

Actually, very simply…

You see, unless we both go instantly into a 69, one of us has to go first. Whenever I’m with a woman for the first time, I try to arrange thing so that I go second. Why this approach? Well based on the earlier logic, the chances are pretty good that, with nothing else to go on, the things she does to me will, in all likelihood, be the kind of things that she herself enjoys. Now that may seem a little bit contrived, but if she enjoys the experience and thinks I’m a fantastic fuck, then does it really matter?

I have adopted this technique on any number of occasions, and it has never failed me. It doesn’t give me a complete picture of her wants and desires, but it gives me a very good starting point.

Now, I love having my cunt licked out; it makes no difference to me if the person doing the licking is male or female. While I don’t believe one gender is better at going down than another, there are differences to the approaches of men and women .

Its a bit of a generalisation, but men tend to be a bit rougher, a bit harder, more intently focussed on getting us off. Maybe it’s because, in the main, men tend to come more quickly than us women. Women tend to be softer and slower. If there is one advantage a woman has, simply through being a woman, it’s that we know our sexual response is generally slower than that of men, so we tend to take our time more. Another reason is that, for a lot of men, cunnilingus is often a prelude to him sticking his cock in us, whereas for us women, it’s the full thing.

That’s not to say women can’t be rough, and that men can’t take it slowly, because they can. Master C and “The Other Guy” will often spend ages pleasuring me with their mouths; one because they enjoy it for itself, and two, because, through experience, they both know my sexual needs, tastes and moods.

For me, while there are differences in technique between the sexes, there are just as many differences between one member of a particular sex and another, and it is those differences that make it so enjoyable. Master C is great with His tongue, but so are both “The Girl” and “The Other Guy”. Their techniques are different, but they can all turn me into a quivering, orgasmic mess; and that, at the end of the day, is the main thing a womaa really wants from getting her cunt licked

The cage

Ever since Master C installed the cage a couple of years ago, it has been a constant source of dread. It is His last recourse of discipline, to be used when a simple thrashing is not sufficient for the transgression that I have committed.

The punishment for those very worst offences is always the same:

• Step one: I am thrashed/caned/birched soundly.
• Step two: With my hands cuffed behind my back, I am forced to kneel before Master C as He wanks, then comes all over me.
• Step three: I am pushed into the cage, the door is locked, the light is switched off, and I am left for a period, potentially even overnight, to contemplate my behaviour.
• Step four: At some point determined by Master C, I will be required to apologise, suck His cock through the bars of the cage then, once released, submit myself for another thrashing.

I fear and dread the cage more than anything.  More than simply being thrashed. More than being denied the release of orgasm. I fear it because it may deny me a night spent next to Master C, feeling His body against mine, feeling safe wrapped up in His strong yet soft embrace. I fear it because it means I have done something so bad, I have temporarily lost the right to His protection.

And yet, the cage isn’t always bad…

Sometimes, when I’m feeling low after a bad day at work, or a particularly bad bout of PMT, I will retreat to the cage, waiting for Master C to return.  The cage becomes a sanctuary, a place of comfort and security.  When Master C comes home and finds me in my cage, He knows that I’m feeling particularly fragile, that I need His care and reassurance more than anything else. It is my sign to Him that the world is proving too much for me and I need Master C to look after me, to cherish me, to love me.

It is a sign that Master C knows only to well how to interpret. I need Him to be my caring, protecting Dominant. He never fails me.

Relationship evolution

First of all, I was absolutely delighted that my suggestion was what became this week’s #F4TFriday prompt. The only slight drawback to that honour is, of course, that it means I do have to write something for it.

The questions this week cover how relationships evolve and grow over time. My experiences are based primarily around my relationship with Master C and His acceptance and support of my bisexuality and promiscuity; and the fact that His acceptance has allowed me to grow and become confident in who I am and how I live my life, so that I can now accept my appetites and desires. Master C has provided me with a framework that allows me to explore my sexual personality, to feel no shame in my sexual choices because I know that my actions have balancing consequences.

In addition to Master C, there are, of course, my relationships with “The Girl” and “The Other Guy”; both of which add important elements to my life.

Anyway, enough of that, let’s get to my answers, which is the bit of this post you are probably interested in:

Casual sex, dating, friends with benefits, hook-up, one night stand, fuck-buddy; have you ever had one (or more) of these arrangements? What is the difference?
To me, casual sex can involve any and all of the rest, sometimes more than one can be going on at the same time. I’ve certainly had one-nighters while I’ve also had regular fuckbuddies/friends with benefits.

In my opinion, the difference between a hook-up and a one-nighter is that there is an element of planning involved in the former whereas the latter tends to be more spontaneous. A hook-up generally involves two (or more) people actively planning to meet for sex. It may still however, end up being a one-off. What they can have in common is that they are both fun (hopefully) and there is often no expectation of a repeat.

I’ve never really been much of a dater. My “dates” with Master C didn’t start until we’d been fucking each other for over 6 months. I guess that the difference between a date and a hook up is the expectation. The purpose of hook-ups is almost certainly for sex, a successful date may lead to sex but, while that may be the hoped for outcome there is less “inevitably” about it. I guess, and again this is just me, you wouldn’t arrange a hook-up if you didn’t already fancy and want to fuck the other person. You date where you think there’s at least a possibility that you could fancy the other person.

The common theme is, with the possible exception of dating, is that in all of these situations there is no expectation is exclusivity; all parties are free to explore and enjoy other avenues.

What is the most interesting way you ever met a partner?
I’ve been chatted up in bars and clubs and I’ve hooked up with both men and women through online contact sites. The most outrageous come-on was at a bar. I was being served by a very chunky Irish guy and, as he handed me my drink, he asked, “Would you like a fuck with that?” 30 seconds later we were outside in the lane behind the pub and we were going at it like crazed animals. It was quick, it was rough, it was deliciously dirty and, ultimately, very enjoyable, if not actually satisfying. He came in my mouth, we shared a cigarette (I was a casual drunken smoker in those days) and then I went back to my drink and my friends and he went back to work.

Have you ever had a hook-up become a relationship? How do you know that it had happened?
This for me was an interesting one as it describes my relationship with Master C. We started as random shags, became semi-regular fuckbuddies, progressed to regular fuckbuddies, started “dating”, became a couple, moved in together, and I finally formally submitted to him and became his slut and submissive.

For me, as the “relationship” evolved, there was a growing realisation that I actually enjoyed His company as much, if not more than His cock. There was a growing, and scary, realisation that I actually had feelings for Him; that I liked Him and that, just possibly *whispers* I loved Him. Then came the equally staggering discovery that those feelings were reciprocated. That was when my fate was sealed.

Someone once said that it becomes a relationship when the cuddles become more important than the sex. As a self-confessed cuddle slut, I think that’s a pretty fair assessment.

How would you tell a potential partner you want a non-monogamous or D/s relationship? If you are already in one, how did it evolve?
This hasn’t really come up for me. When I was casual, I just fucked whomever I pleased. I wasn’t committed to anyone and I frequently had more than one guy on the go at the same time.

With Master C, given that we started out as casual, the fact I was fucking other men and women and he was fucking other women wasn’t an issue. By the time we became a couple, Master C was already fully aware that I am an insatiable slut. It was this, probably more than anything else, that led to the D/s dynamic that we now have.  I was free to fuck whom I wanted, but I had to accept the consequences. The fact that, in our dynamic, I am required to recount my transgressions, give an honest self-appraisal of how bad I have been and the possible sanction that my action requires has helped me learn a lot about my desires and needs and how it is appropriate to accommodate them.

If you relationship is poly, what is its principal dynamic? Do you have a primary? A few fuck buddies? Is everyone equal? Does everyone know?
I guess, in the broadest sense of the term, I am in a non-monogamous relationship, one where Master C is my “primary” and both “The Girl” and “The Other Guy” are my “secondaries” and I am also free to enjoy random encounters outside of these. The fact that it’s all out in the open and everyone is happy and I get to enjoy both sides of my sexuality makes it very satisfying.

There’s a certain amount of irony to the fact that while I’ve involved been involved in both MMF and MFF threesome with Master C and “The Girl” individually, I’ve never had a threesome that has involved more than one of my “regular partners” at the same time. Would we ever play as a threesome or possibly even foursome? The honest answer is, I don’t know. The closest we’ve ever come to doing anything like this so far was the drunken cam show “The Girl” and I put on for Master C during our recent girly spa weekend that I told you about last week. It’s something that I have talked about with each of the parties, working out the possible permutations but, while it’s not off the cards entirely, it remains, for now, at least, it’s just a particularly pleasant fantasy that I can call upon in my “alone time”.

What does your ideal relationship look like? Are you already in it?
I suspect, I’ve already found mine. A loving, supportive, and downright deviant Dominant in Master C, who allows me to fuck whomever I wish so long as I am prepared to accept the consequences of my actions,  a very willing girlfriend in the form of “The Girl” and I also have “The Other Guy” for when Master C  isn’t available and I want something more meaningful than a random fuck.

Putting on a show

So picture the scene, six girlfriends away for a long-awaited girly spa weekend at Stobo Castle to pamper away the mid-January blues. Between us, we booked three rooms and as things worked out, I end up rooming with “The Girl”. Now, as “The Girl” and I have been known to play together, I wasn’t going to complain about this, far from it. If anything, I was figuring out how to take advantage of the situation (and her) from the moment we got to our room.

So at one point in the afternoon, I’m having a quick Skype with Master C, generally just telling Him about the place and so on, when “The Girl” emerges from the bathroom after her shower.

Of course, “The Girl” being “The Girl”, she suddenly decides the room is too warm and discards her dressing gown before striding back and forth around the room putting herself in the view of the camera every couple of seconds.

After that, the sequence of events gets a bit blurred. Suffice to say I end up equally naked and “The Girl” is snogging my face off. Meanwhile, a quick glance at the screen reveals that Master C’s face has now been replaced by His extremely hard and very erect cock.

The next half hour or so was a blur of boob sucking, clit licking and cunt fingering, punctuated with Master C’s increasingly laboured commands to “fuck her cunt with your fingers” or “sit on her face” and other such things.

Now Master C has always enjoyed hearing about my play sessions with “The Girl” and/or other women, and he has, of course, watched me play with others in person, but this is the first time He’s ever watched me in action remotely. Seeing His hard cock on the screen and knowing I was being watched was a massive turn on that had my cunt soaked and me coming hard again and again. “The Girl”, for her part was every bit as orgasmic as I was.

The finalé came with both “The Girl” and I kneeling before the screen, mouths open as if we were ready to receive his load, as Master C’s cock erupted, sending thick spurts of cum into the air. Such a waste, but also such an amazingly hot experience.

Of course, I knew I was going to be punished when I got home for being such a brazen slut, and that exited state of trepidation added another layer of enjoyment to the whole weekend. Given the chance I’m sure Master C would love to punish “The Girl” too for leading his wilful slut astray. He might have to wait a while for that.

So, what, you may ask, does this have to do with this week’s question? The truthful answer is, probably not a lot, although it does kind of involve me being naked for an audience, and it seemed like to good a story not to share with you.

Can you find it in your hearts to forgive for going off script this week?  Even just a little bit… I’ll be a good girl, I promise…

The best way to wake up

When it comes to sex, I’m a bit of an any time, any place, anywhere kind of girl but, for me, there is no nicer start to the day, than to have Master C slowly wake me up, His hands caressing my body, the hardness of His early morning erection pressing against me as He spoons me from behind.

I wake up, all tingly as His hands cup and caress my boobs. I part my legs slightly so that He can run a finger along my cunt, feeling my warm moistness.

I stretch and roll on to my back, my legs apart as Master C moves on top of me, kissing my neck, nibbling my earlobe as His lovely thick, hard cock slides slowly into me.

From there on in, it’s automatic; Master C starts slowly, tenderly, lazily fucking me. Then, as the sensations mount, His strokes become imperceptibly faster, harder. I pull my legs back as He slides in deeper, with every thrust our need becomes increasingly urgent.

Before long, His cock is pounding me, pinning me to the bed; I feel the first stirrings of my orgasm awaken.

The sensations grow, my cunt quivers, His breathing deepens as we move inexorably closer.

I come, clutching at His back, pulling Him tightly against me as my cunt grips His cock tightly.

Master C begins to moan, His body stiffens, I can feel His cock pulse inside me.

With a final thrust, moaning “Morag! Oh Morag!” Master C erupts. His warm cum floods my cunt as He collapses on top of me, pinning me beneath Him.

We lie there, our hearts pounding, our bodies still joined, savouring the sweet, drowsiness of our early morning passion.

Yes, there is no better start to the day.

Discarding my virginity

Let us be very clear, I did not lose my virginity; that has always implied a certain carelessness to me, and there was nothing careless about my first time. No, my first time was very much deliberate; I actively discarded my virginity.

As I’ve mentioned before, I did it for the first time a couple of weeks after my 15^th birthday. There was no real significance to the timing; I didn’t deliberately wait until I turned 15, it’s simply that this was the first opportunity that presented itself. My boyfriend at the time and I already had a pretty active sex life and had had so for several months; the only thing absent from that sex life was actual penetrative sex. It was an omission I became increasingly keen to rectify.

It wasn’t that I felt under any pressure to get rid of my virginity, although a couple of my friends had already dispensed with theirs, it was simply that I wanted to experience it. I knew what it felt like to have a vibrator up me, I knew what it felt like to have my fingers up me, I even knew what it felt like to have someone else’s fingers up me, having experienced that from my boyfriend and my best girl friend, but I wanted to feel his cock (or, if I’m being completely honest, any cock) inside me. I knew what it felt like in my mouth, but in the same way that sucking your thumb feels nothing like sucking a cock, I imagined that being fucked by his cock would feel nothing being fucked by my, or his fingers.

The opportunity arose because on that particular Saturday both his parents were at work, and we would have his house to ourselves.

It all started of in what had become a familiar pattern; lying on his bed, kissing and cuddling, with quite a lot of groping and fondling. At a certain point, he got my top off and started lavishing attention on my boobs. Thereafter, I proceeded to suck him off, being rewarded with a lovely thick load of cum, which I hungrily swallowed down.

Pausing only to catch his breath, and to get me out of my jeans and knickers, he went down on me and ate me to a couple of shuddering climaxes that were intensified, in part, by the anticipation of what would happen next.

As my cunt spasmed around his fingers and my clit thronged in response to his tongue, I asked him if he was hard again. When he informed me that he was, I responded by saying, “Good, because I want your cock inside me.” The wolfish smile he gave me in return was almost enough to make me come again.

As he positioned himself above me, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what it woulld feel like. I had a pretty good idea that images of cascading waterfalls and fireworks were a load of guff; I’d had enough orgasms without experiencing such imagery to know that wasn’t going to happen.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I nodded and felt myself growing even moister as the head of his cock pressed against me. He slid into me slowly but easily. It was obvious he was enjoying feeling his cock being engulfed by my cunt as much as I was enjoying the sensation of him slowly filling me.

It felt good, I felt wonderfully, deliciously full. His cock was so much thicker and fuller than anything that I had ever had up me before. I had expected it to hurt and was pleasantly surprised that it didn’t; just a slight discomfort and a lovely feeling of being stretched and filled.

As he moved inside me, slowly at first, but with steadily increasing pace, I opened my eyes and saw him smiling down at me. “Harder,” I said, “You can go a bit harder.”

He picked up the pace, pulling out and thrusting in, his body colliding with mine, slamming against me with every stroke.

Suddenly, his face contorted, his body went stiff. He groaned: “Shit! Fuck! Morag! Fuck!” (or something equally as coherent and eloquent) as his cock erupted inside me. I felt the warmth of his cum inside me as he slumped on top of me. As his cock slipped out of my cunt and I felt his cum trickle out of me.

I didn’t come; I didn’t care. I had been fucked and it had been good. The second time we did it, later that afternoon was better still. Practice, as they say, makes perfect, and while we never achieved perfection in the time that we were together, the sex continued to get better and increasingly satisfying.

All in all, it’s fair to say, I enjoyed my first time.

Taking Him in hand

Let’s be honest, there are times when our body lets us down; we’re tired, stressed, or, God forbid, just not really in the mood for sex. Yes, I know it may come as a shock, but even the most insatiable sluts sometimes have their off days.

Of course, just because we aren’t really up for getting down, it doesn’t mean we can’t still give Him a good time.

The good old hand-job often seems like a neglected act in a couple’s sexual repertoire, which is strange given that, if you are like me, it was probably the first overtly sexual act that a lot of us women (or girls as we were back then) ever performed on a guy. Long, long before I lost my virginity, and before I became the cock-sucking addict that I am, I loved stroking guy’s cocks. I loved making the guy I was with hard, making him lose control, and eventually firing off a load. It was such a hot experience just knowing that I could do that to a guy and, even though I moved on to “bigger and better” things, it’s still something I love to do.

I’ve said before how much I enjoy being responsible for getting a guy hard. There are times, either as a result of one or more of the reasons listed above, or simply because I want to do something nice for Master C, when I will fall back on this most wonderfully simple method of pleasing Him. There is something extremely gratifying knowing that what I am doing the cause of that reaction as His cock responds to my touch; getting longer, thicker, stiffer. I love how Master C reacts when I touch Him in different ways; stroking His shaft, teasing the tip, playing with His balls, running my fingertip over His frenulum. Each touch elicits its own response. The sigh, the moan, the involuntary flinch, the sharp intake of breath.

As I lie beside Him, my hand sliding up and down His shaft, I love to feel the tension in His body build as His pleasure increases.

Again, as a submissive woman, I love the reversal of control. I can decide how much to tease, I can decide when to let Master C come. I can speed up, slow down, I can change the pressure of my grip, concentrate on another area. Each action of mine has its corresponding reaction. The laws of physics apply to sex every but as much as they do everywhere else.

Sometimes, as I stroke those lovely, hard, proud inches of flesh, I like to tell Master C naughty stories; encounters from my past, trysts with other men or women, things I want Him to do to me, things that remind Him of what an insatiable filthy little slut I am. I know the effect this has on Master C; I know how much my words turn Him on.

As His climax nears, I love the way His cock swells and pulses in my hand. I love the way His lower abdomen tightens. I love the way His breathing strains as Master C does everything He can to delay the inevitable.

Where should He come? For once, the choice is mine. Do I let Him fire his load into the air, letting it fall where ever it lands? Do I aim His cock so that His eruption lands on my skin, allowing me to more fully savour His moment of release? Do I move, place the tip of His lovely straining cock at my lips so Master C can fill my mouth with His rich, creamy essence?

Ultimately, it doesn’t matter; I go with what feels right at the time. The important thing is not the manner of His final explosion, only that I have brought Master C there; pleasured Him, served Him. His release is my reward and when Master C moans my name, when the pent-up tension drains from His body, when He gathers me to Him and holds me in His strong arms and calls me His “good girl”, I know Master C is pleased with me, and that’s what it was all about.

It’s not just about orgasms

It’s probably just as well given the ephemeral nature of the female orgasm. Sure, some of are lucky, some of us come quite easily, some of us enjoy multiple ones, some of our orgasms go on for ages (compared to guys, whose tend to be over in a few quick spurts); but even for the least orgasmically challenged of us there are times when it just doesn’t happen. Sometimes we’re not really in the mood, other times we’re just not turned on enough, sometimes were just having sex because it feels nice and we’re not that fussed. As women, we’re probably all familiar with this, it happens, but actually, just having sex is enough for us. But sometimes, occasionally, there is that most frustrating on non-orgasmic situations: the orgasm that got away…

We’ve all been there, I’m almost certain of it. There’s the feeling of anticipation, followed by the intense arousal as our lady-parts grow flushed and increasingly wet. Then there’s that long plateau phase, where the things he (or she) is doing to us feel so good you don’t want them to stop. The sensations grow more intense, you can feel yourself surrendering to the feelings that are so nearly overwhelming you, you’re on the very cusp and then…

• The cat chooses that moment to jump on the bed;
• Your mum phones;
• One of you sneezes/farts or has some other bodily exclamation;
• He/she changes position, trapping your hair/boob/other part under his/her elbow causing intense unexpected pain; or
• A host of other possible things that knock you off your stride.

And then it’s gone, and no matter what he/she does, unless they are a miracle worker, it isn’t coming back. Even for those of us for whom climaxing is relatively easy, the very fragile of our orgasms means that we will experience this at some time or another.

For guys, most of the time they generally seem to just be able to carry on until its done, for us however, we just have to resign ourselves to the fact that, this time, it isn’t happening and just enjoy the rest of the fuck.

Fortunately, we enjoy being fucked regardless of whether or not we come. Yes, orgasms are great and ours are every bit as important to us as guys’ orgasms are to them, but really they are the chocolate coated cherry on the icing of the cake.

Great sex is all about making us feel great. Granted, nothing achieves that more than an orgasm (or two, or more), but the truth is orgasms during sex are a bonus, and if we don’t have one during, we can probably dig out our favourite toy and beat one off in pretty short order afterwards; secure in the knowledge that we’ll probably be able to have a couple more before he’s ready again.

The fact that sex is something that can be enjoyed even if, sometimes, orgasm can be elusive is something that I am definitely grateful for.

Variety

If you have read this blog, you will know that I am a fairly adventurous slut. I’m generally in the mood for trying new things and, when circumstances allow, fucking new people. That being the case it’s probably no surprise that when it came to this week’s questions, I’ve probably tried (and usually enjoyed) most of them.

Tickling
I am extremely ticklish and, I absolutely hate being tickled; particularly my feet and my lower back, but really, just about anywhere. Master C is, of course, aware of this, and delights in using it as a way of tormenting and torturing me. Usually He just uses his fingers, it doesn’t take much to set me off, but other items have included feathers an upholstery brush, woolly gloves, and even the plastic bristles of an old hair brush (the reverse of which was used to spank me when I complained too vociferously about the tickling).

I HATE being tickled and yet, when Master C does it to me, I am powerless to resist; I simply have to endure it until He decides to take pity on me and do something else instead.

Food
It can be fun. I’ve had Master C pour melted chocolate over me and nibble it off. I’ve licked chocolate sauce and cream from His cock. He has licked ice cream from my cunt. The most intense experience was when Master C turned me into what He delighted in calling a “Morag Sundae”; hot chocolate sauce on my nipples, ice cream on my cunt. The contrast between heat and cold was mind-blowing and when you factor in what Master C did with His tongue, well, I’m sure you can imagine.

Heat/Cold Play
Well, the food bit above covers that off, but I also enjoy wax play. There’s just something delicious about feeling the heat on my skin, and the way it pinches as it cools and dries. Then there’s the pain as it pulls the fine hairs out of their follicles as it is removed. As someone who has a thing for pain, this is a bit of a double whammy for me. The initial burning heat of the wax and then impromptu depilation.

At the other extreme, ice on my nipples is truly wonderful. In fact, ice being trailed anywhere over my skin is a delightful experience, but when it touches those really sensitive bits, my nipples, my labia, my clit, it sends lightening bolts shooting through me. Having my cunt licked by someone who is sucking on an ice cube is one of the most wonderfully pain/pleasure filled things I have ever experienced.

Blindfold/Restraint
I’ve bundled these together as, so often, they are things that are done at the same time. Being restrained puts me completely at the mercy of the other person; I am completely helpless and vulnerable. Add a blindfold so I have no idea what is about to happen or who is about to do something to me (especially in a group play scenario) and I’m almost certainly going to be wetter than a rainy weekend in next to no time. I love that feeling of helplessness. I love the fact that whoever I am with can do whatever they want with me and to me. I love that I just have to accept that I am about to be used (or not) for the other person’s pleasure and there is nothing I can do to influence or prevent what might happen.

Spankings/Discipline
I mentioned being spanked up above and I have written about discipline many times. It ties into my identity as a submissive and it plays to the pain lover in me. Being punished isn’t about play or spicing things up, it is an essential part of my dynamic with Master C. I am allowed to be the slut I am because there are consequences that I accept. That’s not to say I won’t go out of my way to earn myself a spanking/thrashing; I absolutely will. I love the feel of his hand or his belt marking my skin. To me it’s a reaffirmation of his claim on me and that is something to be cherished.

Casual/Random Sex
Yes, if I really want to “spice” things up, there’s nothing that gets me going more than knowing that, if I want to and am prepared to accept the consequences, I can fuck whoever takes my fancy. I’m not sure if I’m ever going to grow out of the thrill of being dragged into a dark alley behind a pub/club and sucking a total stranger’s cock, or having him fuck me in a doorway; especially when I know that Master C‘s belt will await me when I confess my transgression later.

Being a Slut
I’ve said it before, but I am a slut. Specifically, I am Master C‘s slut. He allows me to explore and be who I am. Really, that is all the spice I need.