We don’t have to take our clothes off


Quickies are great; not just because the can be done just about anywhere, whenever the urge takes you, but because they represent an urgency, a desire, a hunger for the other person that can no longer be denied.

I’ll be honest, it doesn’t really take much to get me in the mood for sex. Sure, long, protracted foreplay with lots of kissing, stroking, slowly undressing, licking and sucking before Master C decides which hole He is going to fuck me in (and if I’m specially lucky it’ll be both) is great. Who doesn’t love a seriously intense session like that. But having said that, when the urge takes Him and He orders me to turn around and lift my skirt because He is going to fuck me there and then, will get me wetter than an Autumn day in Scotland faster than I can comply with His demand.

It might be behind the pub after a night out, in the bathroom at a party, even just when Master C gets home from work and I’m in the kitchen; when Master C wants me, He wants me and He is going to have me.

There is no subtlety, not a hint of romance, it is simply a quick, rough, hard, filthy fuck that leaves me feeling used, but oh so happy. This particularly applies to the random guys that I pick up on nights out. It’s not about romance or protracted foreplay; it’s simply about the urge, the need to fuck that both me and they guy I’m fucking are experience. When I’m bracing myself in a doorway as some guy pounds my cunt urgently from behind, there isn’t any time for niceties (sometimes we haven’t even exchanged names), it’s all about the fuck; his cock, my cunt and the urgent rush to climax.

I love the fact that Master C just can’t keep His hands off me and His cock out of me. I love that He and other men just want to take me and use me. I love being a slut. I love that other men treat me as some sort of easy, common slut  and that Master C makes me feel like His special, filthy little slut, to fuck whenever, wherever He desires. It makes me cheap sometimes, it makes me fell dirty, but it always, always makes me feel desired and wanted. Quickies definitely play to this side of my personality.

You really don’t always have to take your clothes off to have a fucking good time.

Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday
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A darker shade of subspace


It’s a wee bit bizarre, but I go through spells where my tastes and desires become increasingly dark. I have always had a penchant for roughness. I have always desired to feel used. Such things are not new to me. Sometimes, however, I want it rougher, darker. So much so that the intensity and level to which I want, no, need to be treated in this way becomes almost frightening.

I love when Master C pulls my hair. I love when Master C starves me of air, either forcing His cock down my throat or squeezing my neck with His strong hands; or, better still, both together. Usually this is something that I do because I enjoy it. Sometimes, however, it is something that I actively crave.

I have pretty much always identified as submissive. Subjecting myself to Master C’s will is central to who I am. I accept His support, His tutelage, as much as I recognise His right discipline me when I transgress. I place myself fully in His hands. He is my rock and my teacher as much as He is My Master.

It goes without saying that I trust Him; not just with my life,  but my needs and desires, especially in those times when they turn so much darker. I need Master C to take me to that edge of reality. I yearn to feel His hands tighten around my neck as He fucks my throat. I desire to have Him gather a handful of my hair and tug my head sharply back, bending my neck to its limits as he takes me from behind. I need Him to slap me harder, to thrash me with more and harder lashes of his belt. I want tears. I want Him to command me and use me. I want Him to own me, to take me, to have me anywhere, anyhow He wants me.

Basically, I want to be His filthy, devoted slut and for Master C to call me His “good girl”.

It’s possibly hormone related, but subspace definitely reaches totally different planes of intensity sometimes.

Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday

Throat fucked


I’m naked, restrained, blindfolded, my head bent backwards over the edge of the bed. My arse still stings from the lashing of Master C’s belt. My nipples throb painfully as the pegs dig into them, holding them erect.

The head of Master C’s cock presses against my lips. “Open wide, slut, I’m going to fuck your throat now,” He commands.

Barely waiting for me to comply, He forces His cock between my lips, into my mouth until the head lodges in my throat; His balls slap against the bridge of my nose. Without a pause to allow me to accustom myself to his presence, Master C begins to move.

He fucks my mouth with deep, hard thrusts, driving His wonderful cock as far as it will go. I choke around it. Master C laughs, telling me that a well trained slut like me should be able to do much better before fucking my mouth harder.

My cunt is growing increasingly wet with every stroke of His cock. Master C reaches forward to squeeze the pegs on my nipples, increasing the pressure, increasing the pain. I try to cry out, opening my mouth wider, but He simply takes this as an invitation to  push in harder.

His hands move up from my nipples to my neck. His thumbs press down; gently but firmly; pushing down against the thickness of His cock through my skin.

My throat is raw. My nipples ache. My clit throbs. The cloth around my eyes grows increasingly damp as my tears soak into it.

Again I choke. Again Master C chides me. His balls slap against me as He stabs His cock between my lips. He feels so thick, so hard; His cock goes so deep.

I struggle for breath as Master C increases the pressure on my neck. The extra tightness makes His cock feel even thicker in my throat. It feels so good, knowing that He is using me for His pleasure, that He is treating my mouth simply as a hole to be fucked.

“Filthy slut!” Master C moans. “You are my filthy little slut!” Each word is punctuated by a sharp thrust of His gorgeous cock filling my airway. I feel myself becoming increasingly lightheaded through lack of air.

And then, suddenly He is gone. As I gulp for breath I feel the warm, stickiness of His cum on my skin as Master C unloads over my neck and boobs.

His cock returns to my lips as He feeds me the last drops of His cum; my reward for being His slut.

Master C removes the pegs from my nipples. I sob with relief and then, as He begins to rub His cum over them, I feel my climax ignite.

Arching my back as much as my restraints will let me, I shiver convulsively as my cunt contracts, my womb pulses, and waves of pleasure wash over and through me.

I know it won’t be my only orgasm.  I know that once Master C is hard again, He will fuck my cunt and possibly my arse just as hard as He fucked my throat.

For now, however, I am happy to wait.

The Oral Sex Project

Breathless


Hands cuffed behind my back. The gag firmly in my mouth. Master C pulls my head sharply back by my hair.

His belt tightens around my neck, digging into my skin as He fucks my arse with deep, long, powerful thrusts.

My cheeks are flushed, tears flow from my eyes. I am lightheaded; a combination of lust and lack of air.

My lungs burn. My jaw aches around the gag’s ball, stifling my whimpers as His cock sinks deep into my back passage, again and again.

The belt tightens. With each thrust of Master C‘s cock, the pressure slowly increases, starving me of air.

I close my eyes. I can feel the blood burning in my veins. I long for Him to cum, to release me from this deliciously breathless agony.

The lack of air heightens my other senses. My nipples throb against the pegs fastened to them. My scalp burns where Master C tugs my hair. My arse… Oh my poor, tortured, abused arse. It hurts so much, but it feels so good.

Dizziness. Arousal. Pain. Pleasure. The hardness of Master C‘s cock. The agony of my oxygen starved lungs. They all coil together, combining in untold ways to heighten my already intense pleasure.

The staccato hammering of His cock in my arse increases. I can almost feel it swell inside me.

Master C lets my hair go as He pulls out. The pressure around my neck lightens slightly. “I’m cumming for you, my filthy little slut, I’m cumming!” He groans and I feel the warmth of his explosion against my skin.

Master C releases the cuffs, removes the gag and kisses me lightly, delicately, lovingly.

“Now cum for me, little slut, your Master wants to watch His slut cum,” He says softly.

As the circulation returns to my fingers, I reach between my legs to comply…