The making of me


The the quote for us to unpick on ‘Quote Quest‘ this week has got me revisiting my relationship with pain and my need to feel it again:

It is always by way of pain one arrives at pleasure.
– Marquis de Sade

It will come to no surprise to anyone that I am submissive and that I have been in a D/s relationship with Master C for  a large part of 15 years we’ve been together;  but what exactly does that mean? In particular, since the dynamics of every D/s relationship is different what does being a submissive and submitting to Master C’s will specifically mean to me?

For many who live outside the D/s world, there is a perception that it’s all about, bondage, pain and perhaps the various role-playing subcultures that exist within our particular sexual sphere. There is a fixation on the pain/punishment element without any understanding of how it fits within the dynamic of a particular relationship.

Yes, Master C does punish me and yes, it does hurt; but it is never pain simply for the sake of pain itself.

When Master C punishes me, it is because I have done wrong, transgressed, displeased Him, failed in some way. The punishment is, first of all, appropriate to the level of the transgression; Master C will never use his belt when his hand is more appropriate, and vice versa, and it is always intended as a lesson.

Before I met Him, I pretty much fucked whomever I wished, with no regard to the consequences of my actions. Now, because we are happily poly, I still have the freedom to fuck other men, but now I know that there will be consequences. As a result, I am much choosier about whom I decided to have liaisons with. This doesn’t mean I won’t have a drunken shag with some nameless stranger, but I know that such indiscriminateness will earn me a much sterner disciplining than I would receive if I exercise a modicum of restraint over my need to have a cock inside me.

The discipline serves as part of His guidance. It is part of the way Master C makes me a better person, instilling in me a greater awareness of my own worth. I may not be any less of a slut under His guidance, but I am certainly a much more discriminating slut as a result.

For me, submission to Master C is not an abrogation of self, far from it; it as a confirmation, a validation of my worth as a person. It is a worth that grows under His strict, but fair tutelage. Yes, Master C punishes me when it is appropriate that He do so, but he also guides me, supports me, encourages me, protects me and, most of all loves me. Everything in our relationship is about making me the best person I can be. I have put that trust in Master C because he deserves it.

And that brings us back to pain. Pain is a reminder that I’ve misbehaved. pain is a reminder that I’ve done something wrong, or stepped beyond a line that I should have stayed within. Pain is a reminder that I ned to try harder. All these things are true, but when Master C cause me pain, He is also doing it because He loves me, He hurts me because He knows I need that pain; I need the sweet, exquisite release, to fully experience the pleasure of being broken down simply to Have Master C rebuild me.

Master C is, quite literally, the making of me.

Quote Quest Blogging Meme Badge

Love is blind(ish)


The the quote for us to unpick on ‘Quote Quest‘ this week had got my grey cells arguing with each other:

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind
– William Shakespeare

I think, for me, it depends on the type of love you are describing and the relationship between oneself and the loved one. Love, after all, comes in many flavours: we love our families (mostly), we love our friends, we (hopefully) love our partners. Love is emotional but how we express it, depends on who it is we are expressing it towards, and the nature of the love/relationship that exists.

I suspect, that the quote is really meant to focus on “romantic” love, i.e. the love between “lovers”, essentially those that we share our lives with and fuck.

Not everyone we fuck, obviously; I definitely have not loved everyone with whom I have rubbed bits and exchanged fluids with, but the important ones, the significant ones.

I think we also have to detach love from attraction. Attraction is, for most of us, very visual. We see someone we fancy, we think “Yeah, I want a bit of that,” we hook-up, date, fuck and maybe a relationship forms and, if it does, it’s possible that the emotional connection we call love develops.

And I think, it is possibly that at this point that the “blindness” develops. Let’s be honest, we all have habits that others find annoying. There are things I do that drive Master C nuts. There are things Master C  does that make me despair. If we didn’t love each other, those little annoyances would probably, over time, become unbearable; but because we love each other, we learn to ignore them wherever we can, and live with them where we can’t and, in some instances, exploit them if it means wheedling/provoking/providing an extra hard spanking out of  it.

Love allows us to turn a blind eye on things that if someone we didn’t love were to do them, would provoke a reaction from mild irritation all the way through to full on rage. Where we are not completely blinded by love, love filters and mitigates the annoyances that we cause our loved ones and they cause us.

I love Master C, for the way He treats me, the way that makes me feel, the strength, comfort and support He provides; that, however, is the emotional side of love. There is also the physical, which is largely based on the things He does to me, but also based on His physical attractiveness to me.

Now, I accept that I am coming from this from the perspective of a sighted person. An unsighted person would almost certainly find attractiveness in other forms and from other stimuli and, for them, I guess, in the visual sense, love truly would be blind. For me however, it is multifaceted; it draws on so many senses and stimuli that my brain then mixes together in some strange neurochemical imbalance to create this crazy little thing called love.

Quote Quest Blogging Meme Badge

The darkness inside


Content Warning: Sexual Violence (Consensual)

The current prompt on ‘Quote Quest‘ asks us to consider the following:

“Don’t Worry About The Darkness In My Soul. It Ignites Me Like An Embered Coal.
– Anon

I consider myself extremely fortunate that I have never suffered from a significant mental illness such as depression, anxiety or bi-polar disorder. I do, however, encounter these conditions and the people who suffer from, live with (and on occasions cannot live with) these conditions daily in my work. That isn’t to say that I never feel down, or disheartened. I have written a number of posts recently about the need for support from Master C; how much I rely on Him to recentre and rebalance me when pressures threaten to become overwhelming.

There is, however, something quite dark within me. I have written about it before. I have needs that need a certain edge to satisfy them. Partially, I think this is what has always driven me to sexual activities that are somewhat riskier; I need that fight or flight reaction that comes with the heightened sensitivity of increased risk/danger.

The past year has seen this darker side surface more often. Understandable perhaps, given the increased suffering I see due to Covid and the restrictions it places on lives, and the effect that dealing with other peoples’ live has on me; the extra pressures, the stresses and the increased feeling of helplessness in the face of something I cannot control.

All these things tap into my darkest desires, feeding my need for Master C to treat me with increasing roughness. I need to feel His hands tighten around my neck, starving me of breath as He forces His cock deep into my throat. I need the extra lashes of His belt, or strokes of the cane on my arse to unleash my tears and ultimately the healing flood of endorphins. I long to have Him grab a handful of my hair and pull my head back sharply, his other hand around my throat as He takes me hard from behind; fucking my cunt or arse with a force and brutal urgency that almost makes a lie out of the love Master C has for me.

I don’t just want this, I actually need it, I need to feel my oxygen staved lungs scream for breath. I need to feel the searing pain in my buttocks from whatever tool/implement He has used to turn them an angry, fiery crimson. I need to feel the harsh burn of the rope on my skin, bound around my wrists, my ankles, my arms, my legs, my neck. I need the agony of returning circulation to my extremities when He unties me. I need Him to slap me, to call me every abusive term He can as He fucks me with a brutal intensity. I need Him to bruise me. I need Him to use me.

I need the cathartic release that only Master C can deliver by taking me to the absolute extremes of my limits; and that only He can deliver simply because He knows how much I need it.

I know that these sessions are never easy for Master C. I know that they drain Him as much as, ultimately, they restore me. I know that He will require almost as much aftercare from me after one of these sessions as I require from Him. If you were to ask, Him, He would admit that this is one of the aspects of our relationship that He finds hardest; Master C is not really sadistic by nature, whereas I am very much masochistic. In the aftermath of a session like this, we heal each other. In a slightly perverse way, these sessions are where we recommit, unconditionally to each other.

My inner darkness can scare me, but Master C always manages to exorcise it, and to release me from its grip, until the next time it takes hold.

I don’t think it can be fully banished. I believe, even when dormant, it shapes so many of my wants, needs, desires and passions. It is a part of me that needs, occasionally, to be controlled, but it is what makes me the person I am. Master C understands this; He understands me. That, in a nutshell, is why I give Him my submission.

Quote Quest Blogging Meme Badge

Wake-up sex


The current prompt on ‘Quote Quest‘ asks us to consider the following:

A morning coffee is my favourite way of starting the day, settling the nerves so that they don’t later fray.
– Marcia Carrington

Now, I am not a morning person, and I will freely admit that coffee is definitely one of my vices, and once I’m up and out of bed, there is a certain truth to the above quote. When faced by a mountain of paperwork or case notes that need reviewing, there sometimes feels like there isn’t going to be enough coffee to see me through it.

Often though, my day starts much earlier than my first mug of coffee, and when it does, it often goes along the following lines…

I wake up feeling warm and relaxed. I can feel Master C’s body, hard and warm behind me as He holds me close, His breath warm against my neck. I wriggle gently against Him, letting Him know I am awake; pressing back against His early morning erection.

A kiss on my neck, a gentle squeeze of my boob is all it takes to ignite my desire. I moan softly and rock my hips, Master C’s cock slips between my legs.

His hand travels over my body, starting with my boobs; my nipples stiffen as Master C gently teases them. The stubble on His chin scratches my shoulder as He nuzzles into my neck and I feel my cunt respond, growing warmer and moister with every second.

His hand slides lower; I part my legs slightly to ease His access. A finger slips between my lower lips and works its way inside me.  I moan and grind myself against Master C’s hand. My cunt grows wetter and hotter as my body responds to His attentions.

Master C slips His finger from my cunt. I take His hand and lift it to my mouth. I take His finger between my lips, tasting myself.

I reach down between my legs. I wrap my fingers around Master C’s cock and begin to rub the head between my lips and over my clit; teasing myself, building my arousal.

His hands caress my boobs; His fingers tease my nipples. Tingles run through me as I work the head of Master C’s cock over my clit.

I shift on to my back, Master C moves above, positioning Himself between my legs. His cock, presses against me; I spread my legs slightly, moving, my hips, to accept Him.

He pushes into me; I clutch at His back as His cock fills me.

Our bodies move; Master C sinks into me, slowly but forcefully, filling me, stretching me. His pubic bone grinds against my clit, neurons spark in the pleasure centres of my brain.

The pace increases. Hearts pound, breathing quickens. My body begins to shake, my cunt grips His cock tightly.

Master C pushes harder, more forcefully, impaling me on His wonderful cock. My orgasm builds inside me. I moan more loudly as I let the pleasure wash over me.

He groans. His body tenses. A strangled gasp escapes Him as Master C erupts inside me, filling me with His seed; hot, thick and sticky inside me.

He collapses on to me, breathing hard, pinning me beneath Him. Finally, Master C rolls off; we cling to each other, holding each other close as His cum dribbles from my cunt.

We doze; that languid post-fuck drowsiness holds us until the alarm clock sounds and a new day starts.

So yes, my morning coffee is a very important part of my routine, but I think my favourite start to the day looks more like what I have just described; then followed by coffee, of course…

Quote Quest Blogging Meme Badge

What about love?


The current prompt on ‘Quote Quest‘ asks us to consider the following:

We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.
– Tom Robbins

Now, if I’m being honest, I don’t think I’ve spend much time looking for a perfect lover. I have spent a lot of time and effort looking for great (and often, not so great) sex partners, but lovers are a different matter. Yes, Master C definitely is, amongst other things, my lover and He is very definitely my love, and as far as perfection goes, well, I guess that in an imperfect world, they are as close as I’ll get, and I couldn’t be happier, or more satisfied than that.

Stepping back, however, when does a shag become a lover?

At the time, I was pretty sure that I was in love with the boyfriend I let fuck me for the first time. I was definitely attracted to him, I enjoyed spending time with him, as our relationship grew over the few years we were boyfriend and girlfriend; starting from just awkward kissing, all the way up to where he was fucking me in the arse, I’d enjoyed every stop on our journey of sexual exploration. I loved what he could do to my body and make it feel, and I loved doing things back; I particularly loved knowing I was responsible for his orgasm. I was heartbroken when our relationship ended after being so intense, but these things tend to happen, and I was possibly even more upset when he passed away after a short battle with cancer a couple of years ago. But, was it love, or was it just the hormonal rush of horny teenagers? I suspect it was a combination of both.

I’d had “boyfriends” before him, and I’m sure I’d told them that I loved them, but I suspect it would be fair to say he was the first boyfriend that was, actually, a lover.

We wasn’t, however, my first lover. That accolade goes to “The Girl”. With her it was a love that grew out of friendship and would become physical. She was the first person (if you exclude my own efforts) to bring me to orgasm. Almost 30 years later, our friendship is still intimate and physical (albeit we can’t be physical at the moment because of Covid) . We revel in each other’s company. There are few greater, yet more simple pleasures than when we get together, spend hours talking shite over a few glasses of wine, and generally fucking each other senseless.

“The Other Guy” is also someone I would put in the “lover” camp. He started of as a random fuck. I hadn’t yet met Master C and I was single at the time. We met via an online contact site, we fucked and, not only was the sex good, but we discovered we actually liked each other, so we decided we would fuck some more. And so we did; whilst never making it to “couple” status we did move from random, to what might almost be described as a “classic” Friends with Benefits relationship which, if you’ve read this blog before will know, still carries on (albeit currently with the same caveats as the relationship with “The Girl”) today.

Then, there is Master C. Again, we started of as casual. We evolved into the kind of Friends with Benefits arrangement that I had with “The Other Guy” and then morphed into a couple. We moved in together a couple of years later and the rest, as they say, is history.

But then, what about the members of our “Sharing Circle”? Are they lovers or are they just sex partners? Well, it’s true that I enjoy their company when we’re sharing (although, honestly, some more than others), and I definitely enjoy the sex, but that’s about as far as it goes. For the most part, these are people that I fuck and people who fuck me. They aren’t people I call up for chats, or spend time with simply for the pleasure of their company. I don’t miss them in the way that I miss “The Girl” or “The Other Guy”. There is no emotional bond. The sex is great and it offers some exciting variety but if the “Circle” ended, I wouldn’t be devastated; I wouldn’t long for and pine after it in the way that I would if my relationships with “The Girl”, “The Other Guy” and especially my relationship with Master C were to end. The are regular (to partners who to a greater or lesser degree I am friendly with rather than people I would consider friends, and certainly I doubt that any would evolve to become “Friends with Benefits” In that respect, I guess, they don’t meet the “lover” criteria, and that’s absolutely fine.

So could I say that I have a perfect love? Well, if I’m being honest, I have to say “no”. Master C and I are, after all, only human. We have our faults, we argue and get on each other’s nerves, we do things that piss each other off; but that’s part of what being life partners is all about. Is Master C the “perfect” lover? Well, certainly, He knows my body and the way it responds like no one else. He can make my knickers fall fall off and my cunt sopping wet and hungry for His cock with just a glance or a gesture. He can and does play my body like a maestro plays a classic instrument. But is He perfect?

Well, again, I would say “no”. Not because I don’t love everything about Him, the things He does and the way He makes me feel, but simply because, like me, Master C is human, and we are not perfect. Besides which, if things were “perfect”, there would never be the opportunity for things to be even better, I would never need to be educated, guided and, where necessary, disciplined, and how dull would that be?

So I will happily take our imperfect lives and the implicit imperfections of our love simply because those imperfections are part of what makes it so fucking great.

Quote Quest Blogging Meme Badge Kink of the Week Blogging Meme Badge