TMI Tuesday – Do your thing

1. Does your sex life need some fantasy? What kind of fantasy?
Not really. I’m not a big one for fantasy really; I much prefer to actually be engaging in activities than imagining them. Having said that, I will often allow myself to become distracted, thinking about what I’d want Master C, “The Girl” or “The Other Guy” to be doing to me. That’s less fantasy though and more a statement of intent. During lockdown, I did have to rely on imagination/fantasy in respect of my encounters with “The Girl” and “The Other Guy”, but now that things are opening up again, so am I, and those encounters are now happening in person again.

2. What is eroticism for you?
It can be anything really. A steamy scene/story that I’ve read, some flirty/sexy/downright suggestive text messages that I get sent, a picture or scene from a film (doesn’t need to be porn) that just makes me “think”, or simply a smile and a kiss from Master C. For me, it really is just anything that sets my mind along a certain path to start thinking about the next time I’m going to get fucked. Doesn’t take much sometimes.

3. You are invited to a kink party, will you go?
Absolutely; unless, of course, we are the ones hosting it.

4. Your lover has tied your naked body down. What do you want to happen next?
a. You get tickled mercilessly
b. You are covered in whip cream and people lick the cream entirely from your naked body
c. Bind, blind, and tease your erogenous zones with an ice cube, feather, candle wax, tongue, etc.
d. A sex toy is used to penetrate you to orgasm
I’m not ticklish (much to the annoyance of Master C; and believe me, He has done extensive research), and food play really isn’t my thing. Either c. or d. or some combination of both, if I’m lucky, work for me. Really though, when I’m in that situation, I simply accept whatever it is Master C decides He wants to do to me.

5. In your sex life, do you go along with whatever your partner wants and needs or when necessary do you handle things to make sure you have thrilling sex?
Being submissive, there is a large element of letting Master C take the lead and I go along with His desires and needs and I do my utmost to serve Him and meet those needs. That said, I have my own desires, wants and needs, and Master C is insistent that I express them so they can be attended to fully. There are also times when we just go with the flow and we both do what comes naturally in that moment; sometimes Master C taking the initiative and lead, and sometimes I will. Sex shouldn’t be about strict, rigid rules; except, of course, when it is…

Bonus: When is the last time you purchased a sex toy? What did you buy? Was it purchased online or at a store?
As a general rule, responsible for purchasing our kink paraphernalia; the cuffs, clamps, plugs, gags, etc. are almost all bought by Him (although I am allowed to pick out things that I like and He will buy those). In terms of what I last bough myself, it would be the vibrator I bought a few months ago (to replace one that had been worn out). It was bought online due to lockdown. Most of these type of purchases are, not because I’m averse to purchasing them from shops in person, simply that I’d have to travel to Glasgow to buy them and doing it online is much more convenient. That said, out local B&Q is always handy for DIY kink supplies.

TMI Tuesday – Fantasy, Impulse, Reality

1. What do you have against reality?
I have nothing against it per se, it’s just that you have to take it as you find it. Fantasy you can direct and create as you want, but with reality you just have to go with it and either accept it or adapt to what it throws at you.

2. Do you feel like you are maintaining a healthy balance between leisure, time for self, career, physical activity, and those you care about?
On the whole, yes. When things get a little out of kilter, I can rely on Master C to rebalance me.

3. What is a fantasy you have that you really want to come true?
I don’t rely have any, but what I do look forward to is when our poly “sharing circle” is able to start having get-togethers again. I really do miss our group activities.

4. What is the most impulsive thing you have ever done?
I haven’t done it for a while, but my penchant for the drunken back-alley blow-job/fuck with a random stranger is quite impulsive, and one I repeat quite regularly when opportunity arises.

5. You are being given an all expense paid vacation, and you must leave for vacation tomorrow. Considering your current mood, state of mind, feelings–will you take the vacation alone, with a friend or with family? Why?
I would definitely take Master C with me. Firstly, because I just wouldn’t dream of going away without Him and also, being able to get away with Him and take a break from the daily grind would be absolutely lovely. I’m certain we would take full advantage to enjoy it if it were to arise.

Bonus: How do you feel most of the time? Happy? Anxious? Satisfied? Sad?
Most of the time I am a fairly cheerful and satisfied person. When I’m not, I can always count on Master C to build me back up.

Fantasies

Content Warning: Sexual Violence (Consensual)

Inspired by the 6 Nations, a few years back, I wrote about a Changing Room fantasy where I’m bound and helpless and the local rugby team get to have their way with me. Essentially, I get well and truly fucked in every hole, get cum splattered all over me, and then, with the absolute minimum of cleaning up afterwards, I have to join them in the club bar where they all talk very loudly about what they did and how I took it.

The key elements of this story are:

• restraint/helplessness
• being used by multiple men
• having numerous loads of cum shot on my face/boobs/arse/skim
• public humiliation

The truth is, while the setting and the premise may vary, the above is pretty much a recurring theme of my fantasies. They almost invariably involve me being tied up, naked in some semi-public location where there is an invitation for any who find me to use me as they please.

It could be the changing room as described above, it could be me bound and helpless in a hotel room, where the door has been deliberately wedged open, it could be me bound over a style or a gate on a country footpath or, in some sort of public stocks, being punished for my wanton behaviour by the good citizens, and my punishment is to endure their wanton behaviour.

Wherever the fantasy is located, I am always naked, always restrained, always helpless to resist and there is always the “invitation” for whoever encounters me to use me in whatever way they see fit.

What follows is an indeterminant number of people, both men and women, doing what they want. Fucking my mouth, fucking my cunt, fucking my arse, whipping me, thrashing me, my cunt is fingered, licked, fucked with numerous implements/toys and I simply have to “endure” it.

Usually, but not always, the men choose to punish me by denying me the satisfaction of having their cum released inside me; they shoot their loads on my skin, their cum sticks to my face, drips down my boobs, coats my buttocks. By the time I am finally released, every hole has been fucked countless times and I am a mess of dried on cum.

As if the humiliation of the public sexual torture and cum-soakings weren’t enough, there is always some sort of “walk of shame” element, where my slutiness is displayed for all to see. Those who have fucked me, feign outrage at my deplorable wantonness while congratulating themselves on how they used me, both individually and collectively.

The final act in my fantasy is the redemptive element. The overseer of my punishment/public humiliation (almost always some fictionalised version of Master C or “The Other Guy”) fucks me, rewards me with their cum in my cunt or mouth and tells me that despite being a filthy slut, they are proud of how I stoically took my punishment, how I held my head high, proudly, despite the humiliation, how I have proved myself to be worthy.

It’s probably fair to say that my fantasies are born somewhere within the darker side of my subconscious that I wrote about recently. I can’t deny there is a roughness bordering on violence about them that I suspect some may find disturbing. The thing is though, when my mind goes down these particular paths, the intensity of the orgasms that such mental images help to produce is something else altogether and I’m left feeling as drained as if the scenes playing out in my mind had actually happened.

The great procrasturbator

Procrastination: what a wonderful word, and so very apt. I’m not sure where I first came across the word (pun possibly intended) but it’s fair to say I procrasturbate a lot; if it were an Olympic sport, I’d be a medal standard procrasturbator. All too often, I’ll have a wank simply because I can’t be arsed doing something else.

Whether it be contemplating the mountain of ironing that has built up from the weekend, scrubbing the bathroom, cleaning out the fridge, or feeding the cat (no, scrub that last one, if you want the peace and quiet to enjoy a good wank, always ensure the cat has been fed), there are very few things that cannot be put off until after you’ve devoted a little time to yourself.

For example:

You get home from work. If you’re like me, the first thing I do, after feeding the cat, is change out of my work stuff (unless Master C has previously indicated that he wants me to play the part of His slutty PA that evening, and even that requires some costume adjustment). Sometimes I’ll have a shower, sometimes I’ll just change straight into my jeans and a cosy jumper. Depending on the time of the month, I may or may not decide to dispense with the services of my bra. I know that, feeding the cat not withstanding, 100 of those 101 things that need to be done each evening still need doing. The dishwasher needs emptying, the living room needs hoovering, that lightbulb in the hall that’s needed changing since April still needs changing, but I’m naked, or near enough, and I’ve had a long, difficult day, and I need to unwind. Ironically, all the things I used to do in my student days to put off doing any actual studying are now the very things I’m about to have a wank to postpone doing because they actually need doing.

Cue, quick rummage in my toy drawer…

And there is one of the key points of procrasturbation, it itself can be delayed by deciding what kind of wank to have and which toys to employ. Do I want a fast, furious orgasm? Dig out my wand. Do I want a slower, but intense and prolonged climax? I may use my rabbit or one of my other vibrators. Do I want a longer, lazy build up where I can keep myself simmering for as long as I want before allowing myself to come? I may just forget the toys altogether and just use my fingers.

Tonight, I decided to combine the lovely full feeling in both holes by using my double dildo, while enjoying the slow burn of rubbing my clit to climax. In my mind, Master C comes home to find the housework still not done and his lazy slut pleasuring herself. I feel His belt for failing to keep house properly. He spanks me for not ironing the perfect creases into his work shirts. He stands over me as, naked and on my knees, I scrub the kitchen floor, His belt twitching in His hand, ready to punish me if I miss any bits that need cleaning.

When I complete my chores to His satisfaction, Master C bends me over His desk and fucks my arse, brutally and without mercy. His fingers dig into my freshly thrashed arse cheeks as he fucks me.

He pulls out and spins me around. I drop to my knees.

“Filthy!” Slap.

“Lazy!” Slap.

“Worthless!” Slap.

“Slut!” Slap.

My eyes brim with tears, which trickle down my stinging cheeks.

Master C stands over me, stroking His cock. The head swells, an angry purple, and as His cock erupts in my mind, covering my face and neck with a thick load of cum, back in the reality of my bedroom, my orgasm rips through me; claiming me, owning me, holding me in its embrace before finally releasing me.

Afterwards, once I’ve recovered and got dressed, I add ‘wash dildo‘ to my list of chores that still need doing.

I touch myself

Master C loves to watch me bring myself to orgasm and, fortunately, I love to put on a show for him.

Enjoyable as a good wank is, there’s something undeniably hot about knowing that someone is watching you and is getting off to you getting yourself off.

When I come, I lick my juices off my fingers and then accept Master C’s cock as He wanks Himself off into my mouth; rewarding me with a thick load of cum for turning Him on with my show.

It’s an experience that I find particularly hot.

Does Master C think of me when He wanks? I don’t know, and to be honest, it doesn’t really matter. What goes on in His mind to add to the sensory experience and help Him come is up to him. It might be me, it might be Jessica Alba, it may even be me and Jessica Alba if He’s really lucky.

So who or what do I think about when I’m wanking? It all depends really.

Sometimes I’ll be having a particularly salacious daydream. This may involve Master C or “The Other Guy”, it may involve a celebrity, it may just be a faceless other person, it doesn’t matter. In this case the thought comes first, the thought causes the wank; I use my fingers and/or toys to give some substance to the daydream, to give it a little more realness. If I’m imagining that Master C/Ryan Gosling/nameless stranger is fucking me, I want to feel something in whatever hole my daydream has me being fucked in. The daydream provides the backdrop while my fingers/toys bring it to life.

Usually though, it’s the other way around; I’ll begin to play with myself and then I’ll conjure up something in my mind to give it something to work with and connect to the sensations coming from my boobs or my cunt. I may remember a particularly good shag that I’ve had. Perhaps it was the setting that made it special rather than the fuck itself. It may or may not involve Master C. It may or may not involve a guy at all; sometimes my hottest fantasies are those where I’m with “The Girl” or possibly even another girl. The sex I’m having in my head may be soft and romantic, or it could be hard, rough, verging on brutal. Sometimes I’ll imagine a one-on-one scene, at other times I’ll imagine multiple partners, be they people I know or total strangers.

The fantasy fits my mood. If I want to enjoy a long, slow wank, I’ll picture something tender and protracted. If I want to get off in a hurry, I’ll imagine something rough and urgent.

The fact is, there is a wank for every mood, and a fantasy for every wank, all I have to do is match them up in my head.

A little bit of “me” time

So, having got home from work and having had a shower, I step out of the bathroom, my skin tingling, my body pink and glowing. From there, I walk the few steps to my bedroom. I drop the large, fluffy towel and, for a moment, I stand there, naked, surveying myself in the full length mirror on the wall. From there, I sit on the edge of the bed and reach for the jar of skin crème. Applying a generous amount to my hands I start to rub it in.

I start with my arms. My hands glide over the soft skin. An occasional fleeting contact with my naked boobs sends tiny electric shocks through me.

Next my legs. My hands slide easily up my slender calves and over my rounded and shapely thighs. From there, they travel up to my midsection. A warm glow begins to spread through me as my hands absently trace their way under the curves of my boobs.

Should I stop or should I continue? I hesitate only a moment before applying more crème to my hands. Let’s be honest, this would have been a very short entry if I’d stopped there, wouldn’t it?

I moan softly as I cup my boobs in my hands and begin to caress them, rubbing the crème into those soft mounds of flesh that attract so much attention. My nipples stiffen as my hands slide over them.

Lying back on the bed, I close my eyes. I murmur my contentment as my hands squeeze and massage my boobs. I gently pinch my nipples and then my hands glide over the soft skin again.

My cunt responds in kind. I can feel it begin to pulse. I’m already turned on and getting more so with every moment that passes, every touch of my fingers. My boobs, firm and yet so soft, feel so good under my hands as I press them together, savouring the sensations arising from my attentions.

Tentatively, I let one hand brush lower. I open my legs. A finger slides between my lips, tracing the warm, wet folds of my cunt, coating it with my juices which are already flowing copiously.

I lift my fingers to my mouth, tasting the juices that are flowing freely from my cunt. The flavour intoxicates me.

I return my fingers to my cunt, sliding between the moist lips. I begin teasing my clit, it feels so good, my pleasure intensifies.

Slowly I slide one, then two fingers into me. I thrust them in and out, gently twisting them inside me. Waves of pleasure spread out from my cunt to consume me as I slowly finger-fuck myself.

Before things go too far, I reluctantly slip them out and lightly stroke my clit. In my mind’s eye it’s no longer my finger but a warm, wet tongue that is pleasuring me. Not my Master C’s tongue, not even “The Other Guy’s” tongue but a woman’s; “The Girl’s” tongue to be precise. The excitement inside me builds as I imagine Master C catching me there, catching me with “The Girl” between my legs, watching as her soft tongue gently laps the juices from my cunt.

The excitement mounts, my cunt contracts. It’s too soon, I don’t want to come just yet, I need to slow down, to make it last, to savour every moment.

Almost reluctantly, I remove my hand from my clit. I lift my fingers to my mouth and lick them clean. As I savour the taste, in my imagination I’m licking my juices from Master C’s cock. In my fantasy He has joined us and has fucked me to the brink of orgasm as the “The Girl” feasted on my clit.

The sexual tension is still building, I have to force myself to slow down. I will my overactive imagination into neutral.

My hands return to my boobs. I shiver with delight as I squeeze and caress them. Pushing them together I pinch my nipples. I cry out with the subtle mixture of pain and pleasure. I rub in a little more crème, imagining that it’s Master C’s cum and I spend what seems like an age caressing each one in turn.

Fire burns in my cunt. My body is alive with expectation of release as I caress myself all over. Like iron to a magnet my fingers are unconsciously drawn towards my cunt once again. I have to use every ounce of will power I possess to prevent them from finding their goal. I run my fingers up and down my inner thighs, teasing myself until the tension and anticipation become too much to bear.

One hand returns to my boobs, the fingers of the other lightly brush over the lips of my cunt. I slowly slide a finger between the lips, spreading them wide. My finger dips into my cunt. Once again I take my finger to my mouth and lick the warm dew from its length. I savour the taste as, fully aroused, my other hand glides over my stomach to take its place.

This time I thrust two fingers into my cunt. I slide them in and out increasing the force with each movement. My thumb rests on my swollen clit and I moan softly as the sensations take over. My passion now owns me; my body, of its own volition, moves steadily towards the impending climax.

I thrust my fingers deep inside me, twisting them round and round inside my cunt. My thumb exerts a steady pressure on my clit. My free hand strokes and squeezes my boobs.

I can feel it approaching. The fire in my cunt builds to an inferno as my thumb and fingers do their work. My breathing quickens. My womb begins to contract. My body begins to shake.

My fantasy lovers return. “The Girl” is frantically licking my clit as, in my imagination, Master C works His cock in and out of my cunt.

The dam suddenly bursts. I cry out as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure wash over me. My body shudders as I slip the fingers from my cunt and slide them back and forth over my throbbing clit, keeping the intensity of my climax at full strength.

My other hand pinches each nipple in turn as I gently rub my clit with a circular motion. Lightning bolts shoot through me as my climax climbs to a higher level. The contractions in my cunt and womb spread out to engulf me until I can take no more. With tears of joy in my eyes I allow myself to let go, hugging myself tight as I let the orgasmic energy dissipate.

After that, I lie on my bed motionless. I lie there, unaware of time passing, unaware of the room around me, unaware of everything except the beating of my heart. A warm glow of satisfaction spreads over me as my breathing returns to normal and my body relaxes.

Hope you enjoyed me telling you about it as much as I did actually doing it (and re-living it)

The BIG reveal

It’s the final stop on the journey. The final revelation.

It’s those final moments before you reveal yourself fully.

It’s the anticipation you feel as you prepare to surrender to your partner’s scrutiny.

It’s the thrill you feel as you peel off your knickers and expose yourself fully to your lover.

It’s the excitement as you prepare to open up for him, to feel his tongue on you, or his cock in you.

It’s the big reveal…

When I touch myself

What goes through my head when I touch myself?

So many things, so many images.

Sometimes it’s a girl stroking my clit with her tongue, gently fucking me with her fingers. Sometimes it’s a guy, fucking me hard and deep, his thick cock filling me.

Sometimes I do nothing more than concentrate on the sensations; a combination of masturbation and meditation.

The thing is, the imagery isn’t really important, it’s the sensations that matter; the warm aroused feeling that spreads through me, the pulsing of my cunt and womb as the sensations become ever more intense, the throbbing of my clit as my fingers press against it.

The image in my head, a stray naughty thought, a particular feeling can give my response a context, a focus, pushing me to the edge.

When I come, the sensations consume all else. I am no longer thinking, I am no longer imagining, I am simply experiencing. My orgasm is all there is and I am at the eye of its storm, helpless in its grip as it takes me where it will.

That’s what happens when I touch myself…