You said “foo foo”. Our survey said…


Pussy, twat, twinkle cave, flower, fanny (mostly UK, particularly Scotland and Northern Ireland), fud, growler, foo foo, sex, mound, box, cunt, CUNT, CUNT!!

The English language apparently has over 1,000 recognised euphemisms for the female genitalia. I’ve listed a few, off the top of my head, above. Seriously though, 1,000 euphemisms? Somehow I can’t quite see Nick Knowles ever asking contestants to name as many of those as they can come up with on the Saturday night lottery “Who Dares Wins” quiz show… And as for a question on Family Fortunes: “We asked 100 people for a euphemism for vagina…”, Can you imagine it?

Being Scottish, I’ve always quite liked “fanny”; there’s something humorously endearing about it. As often as not, we use it as a moderately insulting term for someone who annoys us, as in: “See him, he’s a right fanny!”, or when someone is dithering, as in: “Stop fuckin’ fannyin’ aroon an get oan wi’ it!” We might even describe someone who is a bit dim as a “Fannyheid”. It’s probably for these reasons that the word “fanny” as a term for vagina has, largely dropped out of use, increasingly replaced by the almost ubiquitous, “pussy”.

Now, we Scots being who we are, are not only increasingly using pussy instead of fanny when referring to a vagina, it’s also beginning to replace fanny in the contexts quoted above as in: “Stop being a pussy” or “Stop pussying about”. I don’t think I’ve encountered the term “Pussyheid” yet, but I’m sure it’s time will come.

Personally, I’ve never liked referring to my lady-bits as a pussy. Firstly, simply down to the fact that for most of my adult life, I’ve kept mine smooth, so there is no luxuriant fur to stroke and secondly because, well, it’s a bit limp really. This is the bit of our body that when used and abused in the right ways, ignites a pleasure in us that the company of a house pet can never match (and if it can, I seriously worry about you). A pussy is a soft and cuddly domestic animal which, fair enough, can be a vicious beast at times, sleeps a lot and needs constant feeding and affection.

OK, so, it’s true, some of the above also applies to my vagina but only in the most oblique of ways.

No, for me, the descriptive word is “Cunt”. It has such a vulgar, earthy sound to it, it rolls satisfyingly off the tongue and is of good, solid, old Germanic/Scandiwegian/Anglo Saxon origin.

A cunt sounds like something that wants, no, deserves to be pummelled and pounded until its owner is a quivering, orgasmic wreck. A cunt sounds like it is there to be invaded, impaled, filled and abused. A cunt sounds as if it was designed for filthy, deviant, sometimes painful but ultimately enjoyable and satisfying things to be done to it, and for them to be done again and again, over and over until all parties are satiated. Whereas a pussy should be petted and stroked, a cunt deserves to be taken, used and fucked.

Another advantage is, that in the derogatory sense, calling someone who is pissing you off a “cunt” is infinitely more satisfying than calling them either a “pussy” or a “fanny”.

Fanny will always hold a soft (and moistly warm) spot in my soul but it’s my cunt that routinely gets fucked.

#MasturbationMonday #PussyPrideProject

 

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Is it in the genes?


What is it that makes us who we are? What drives our sexual urges, appetites, and preferences? Is it nature or is it nurture? Is it something completely random?

Take my sister and me, for example. My sister is three years older than me. To all intents and purposes, our DNA is pretty much identical. We’re about the same height, the same build (albeit my boobs are bigger, but she has a nicer arse), we have the same colour hair, and the same colour eyes. We share a very similar sense of humour, and in most respects, very similar personalities. However, when it comes to sex and sexuality, we couldn’t be more different.

That’s not to say my sister doesn’t enjoy sex as much as I do, because I’m pretty certain she does. Nor has she been without her share of sexual partners; although unlike me, all of her partners have been male.

Whereas I am openly and actively bisexual, my sister has no inclination towards girls. She can appreciate female beauty, she is not attracted sexually to other women.

Another difference between us is that casual sex is not her thing. She’s had a couple of flings between relationships, whereas, you could almost say, I’ve had a few relationships between flings.

I know, she’s never had sex with more than one person at a time, and while she isn’t averse to anal, it’s not a big feature of her repertoire; saving it “special occasions”.

One thing we do have in common is our love of giving blow-jobs. Given that I have previously recounted how I almost walked into her, mid-suck, this didn’t surprise me. Like me, she is also a swallower.

We both enjoy our toys, we both enjoy sex in slightly risky situations, we both enjoy it hard and, sometimes, a little rough, but whereas I enjoy a good thrashing from Master C’s belt, and I have some very obvious submissive tendencies (to put it mildly), my sister is much more vanilla in her tastes. She enjoys the occasional spanking, likes to be restrained from time to time, but by and large, kink is just an occasional bit of fun to spice things up. Anyone who is a regular reader of this blog, will know that for me, kink defines what Master C and I do.

So how is it that two people who have the same genetic heritage, have had the same upbringing, be so different. What made my sister the almost model of sexual respectability, while I am wanton slut? What makes us so different in our sexual appetites and tastes?

Oh, and while I’m at it, why is she able to hold her drink so much better than me?.

#MasturbationMonday

Just take me…


As I’ve mentioned before, I’m am very much a submissive and I love to be dominated. I don’t necessarily mean in a sadomasochistic/bondage kind of way (although, I’m not averse to being restrained on occasion), but just that I like to be taken in a way where when Master C does things to me, it’s simply because it’s what He wants to do and not because He is trying to respond to what I might want. In these situations my pleasure derives solely from the fact that Master C is taking His pleasure from me, doing what He does because He wants to and is enjoying it.

There’s something decidedly primal about it. It doesn’t have to be rough (although it often can be, and that’s fine too), it’s just knowing that Master C is going to take me and do to me as He pleases, and I just have to take whatever is dished out.

It’s the knowing that, when Master C sucks on my boobs, it’s because that’s what He wants to do, and not because He knows I like it. When Master C forces his cock between my lips, into my mouth and deep into the back of my throat, chocking me with its fullness as His strong hand tightens around my neck, it’s because He wants to feel my throat tighten around the swollen head, starving me of oxygen. When Master C sinks his cock into my cunt and begins to fuck me, it’s because of His sexual urge, His most basic need. In that particular moment, the fact that it’s me that Master C’s fucking is immaterial, all that matters is that His cock is inside a tight, warm, wet and willing cunt and that He is going to keep fucking it until He comes. It’s the fact that no matter how caring and considerate a lover Master C is (and believe me, He is usually very considerate), at this particular moment, He is being driven by His own ‘selfish’ sexual desire; my needs are of no consequence and that I’m simply there as a means to facilitate His desire. I am there to yield to Him, to give myself to Him utterly, to receive Him and to be used by Him.

It’s the knowing how much Mater C is enjoying having His way with my body that gives me my pleasure (that, combined with the fact that I’m still getting a bloody good seeing-to). I may not always come in these situations (but I frequently do) but it still leaves me with a deep sense of satisfaction; to have been taken so utterly, so completely, to have been used for His fulfilment, to have Him collapse on top of me, breathless and drained, pinning me beneath Him, His cum warm inside me or on my skin.

Don’t get me wrong, I like tenderness, I like consideration, I love the deep emotional connection of mutual pleasure, but sometimes, what it all boils down to is, I just want to be fucked and I know I can depend on Master C to do just that whenever the urge takes Him.

#MasturbationMonday

On my knees


Whether it’s facing Master C, ready to take His cock in my mouth, or facing away, bracing myself, ready to feel Him in my cunt or arse, I spend a lot of time on my knees.

When I’m sucking His cock, I love to look up at Master C, making eye contact as I take Him deep into the back of my throat. As I kneel between His legs, Mater C puts His hands on my head and forces His cock deeper. I look up through my lashes and see the look of hunger in His eyes.

Turning away from Him, I brace myself, waiting for Master C to take me. The anticipation grows as His hands grip my hips, peaking as I feel the head of His wonderful cock press against the entrance of His choice. My body moves as Master C plunges into me. Sometimes He grabs my hair, pulling my head back painfully, at other times, He’ll push me forward, forcing my face towards the floor as He fucks me with long, hard, forceful thrusts of His magnificent cock.

Of course, it’s not just about blow-jobs and fucking. I kneel to receive His spankings, I kneel when I await the bite of His belt on my arse, I kneel when I thank Master C for my punishment.

I spend a lot of time on my knees, and I love every moment I spend on them.

#WickedWednesday Tell Me About

It’s as if he hates me


Sometimes I like to be abused. When Master C calls me a filthy little bitch, or a dirty whore, punctuating His words with slaps across my cheeks that bring tears to my eyes and set my cunt juices flowing.

When Master C bends me over his knee, yanks my knickers down and spanks me hard until I cry, I get a warm feeling inside.

When His belt cuts into the skin of my arse cheeks and Master C tells me that I’m a worthless slut who deserves to be punished, my desire to feel His cock inside me grows.

When Master C rams his cock forcefully down my throat, making choke and splitter, I can’t wait to taste His cum.

As Master C fucks me hard from behind, abusing my cunt or my arse, I love it when He tugs my hair, pulling my head back as far as my neck will allow. All the time He fucks me, He’s telling me how I’m just a collection of holes to be used, abused and filled with cum.

When Master C comes all over my face, degrading me, showing His utmost contempt for me as He wipes His cock in my hair, I know I am His, and that I belong to Him.

Later, as Master C holds me close in bed, His strong arms enveloping and protecting me, I am grateful to be His.

Yes, I love it when Master C fucks me like He hates me.

#MasturbationMonday

Degrading or delightful?


Porn, it must be said, is obsessed with the visibility of the male orgasm. It’s not very often that the guy actually cums inside the woman. In the vast majority of cases the woman sits there in open-mouthed expectation while, from almost point blank range, he manages to almost completely miss her mouth and covers her face in a thick load of cum, in a way that many of porn’s critics say is humiliating and degrading.

And here’s the thing, the critics are right. There is, in my opinion, little that is more humiliating than having a load of cum dumped over your face, unless, of course, its having several loads of cum dumped on your face. If nothing else, it show a contemptuous lack of respect for the woman. Far from sex being a loving, passionate shared experience, it becomes an act of male control and degradation of women. That doesn’t, however, necessarily make it a bad thing. In fact, I love having it done to me.

For Him, it is a control thing, a marking of His ownership in a contemptuous fashion; He’s fucked me, taken His pleasure from me, and with a total disrespect for me, He inflicts the ultimate humiliation of deciding I am unworthy of receiving Mis seed, and marking me for the filthy, worthless slut that I am.

Now, I accept that this might not be everyone’s cup of tea but, as I said above, I happen to love it.

I am, you see, a self-confessed cum-slut. I have a fascination for the substance. I am, as I have admitted to on many occasions, hopelessly submissive, and I love to be dominated. I love Master C’s cum wherever it ends up; inside me or on me, but there is something especially deliciously dirty about getting it all over my face. It makes me feel used, it makes me feel slutty and, perhaps bizarre, it makes me feel appreciated.

This may seem a little strange to an outsider, but it does, to me at least, make a perverse kind of sense. You see, as much as Master C is marking His possession of me, at the same time, He is confirming that I am His; it’s a renewal of our commitment to each other in a filthy  warm, sticky liquid way. In that way, far from being disrespectful or humiliating, Master C is paying me the compliment of letting me know that He is proud to have me as His filthy, submissive slut.

Love, and affection can be shown in many different ways, and in our D/s relationship, this is simply one of the ways Master C shows His appreciation of me. I accept that some people not used to the D/s scene may find this strange, but it means so much to me. I am His, and when He comes all over my face, Master C is confirming both His ownership of me and my status as His submissive little slut. He is also satisfying my love of this wonderful substance.

One word of warning though, however much a woman might love being drenched in cum, just try not to get it in her hair…

#MasturbationMonday Kink of the Week

Cunt


I love the word cunt; so coarse, so harsh a word for something so warm, soft, inviting and, ultimately welcoming. It is, however, a very satisfying word. Cunt: it just rolls of the tongue. It has a lovely, earthy Anglo Saxon feel about it, the way so many of our sex words have. Cock, cunt, fuck; such short forceful words that combine so well together, both on the page and in the flesh.

It hasn’t always been my cunt. When I was much younger, it was my fanny. When I was a bit older, it became my pussy. Occasionally, mostly because I’m redheaded, it got referred to as a minge, because that rhymes so playfully with ginge.

I never really liked pussy as a descriptive term. Yes, mine is sometimes “furry” after a fashion, and it does love being stroked, but in its own way pussy always seemed to be almost as childish a name as fanny.

I can’t exactly remember the first time a partner referred to it as a cunt. I do remember thinking, “Yes! That’s what it is. It is my cunt!” I remember enjoying the things his tongue was doing to my cunt. I remember how I felt as his cock fucked my cunt. That wasn’t just its name, that was what it was. It completed the unholy trinity of C words: cock, clit, and now cunt.

From then on, when a guy, or girl, went down on me, he/she licked my cunt, tasted my cunt, ate my cunt. When I had sex with me, he fucked my cunt. And when I masturbated, I would frig my cunt.

Frig. Wank. Cock. Fuck. Arse. Cunt.

Such short, sharp, harsh, vulgar yet, at the same time, beautiful words.

And then of course there is one more; slut, for that is what I am. A filthy, greedy, insatiable, submissive little slut. A slut who craves nothing more than Master C’s cock, whether it be in her mouth, her arse or her cunt. A slut who loves to be told how warm and tight her cunt feels around her Master’s cock. A slut who loves to fee Master C’s tongue lapping her juices from her cunt. A slut who just simply loves her cunt licked, fucked and generally used however Master C deems fit.

#MasturbationMonday #PussyPrideProject

 

It’s not just for sitting on


I will freely admit, I take it up the arse and I love it.

The first time I got my arse fucked was when I was 15, not long after losing my virginity. It wasn’t planned, well, not by me at least. One minute I was standing, feet apart, bracing myself against the wall for support, trying hard not to make any noise as my boyfriend’s mum was downstairs watching Eastenders while he was busy giving my cunt a very thorough pounding from behind, when, suddenly I felt one, then two very well lubricated fingers working their way into and being twisted around in my arsehole. When, moments later, his cock slipped out of my cunt, I had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen next. Sure enough, he removed his fingers and began working his cock into my tight rear hole.

I’ve no idea why he decided to do it; I’m fairly certain that I hadn’t given any indication that it was something I wanted to try, he just went ahead and did it. It’s fair to say, despite the lubrication, it hurt quite a bit, the sensations were, unusual, to say the least; but by the time he’d given my arse a pounding almost every bit as thorough as the one he’d given my cunt, pulled out and shot his warm sticky load over my back and arse cheeks, it is fair to say, I had become an anal addict.

In my opinion. there is, you see, nothing loving or tender about an arse fucking. Well, that’s not entirely true, I love getting my arse fucked, and it is always very tender afterwards, but that isn’t my point. The point is, that for all I enjoy soft, romantic, loving sex, I also like rough, hard, animalistic sex. The filthier it is, the more I love it; and anal sex fits perfectly into this category.

To me, a guy doesn’t make love to an arse, he fucks it, preferably forcefully and hard. When Master C has His cock in my arse, it is the ultimate symbol of His possession of me. It is Master C saying, in the most basic language there is, that I am His filthy little slut and He is going to use me however He so pleases.

And on that point, there’s nothing I like more when I’m having my arsehole brutally pounded than to be told, in no uncertain terms, that I am a filthy little slut and that I am getting exactly what I deserve. If those words are accompanied by some stinging slaps to my buttocks and my hair being yanked hard so that my head is pulled back, then so much the better; it simply emphasises the Master C’s ownership of me and the fact that my body is His to use. In these instances, a thorough buggering is the epitome of filthiness and, quite obviously, there are times when I want to be His filthy little slut and I need Master C to let me know that that is most certainly what I am.

Sometimes, getting my arse fucked will just be part of a wider sexual experience, one where we spend an afternoon, or an evening, or occasionally a whole day just pleasuring each other, doing whatever feels right and whatever we are in the mood for at any given moment. On other occasions, it will be all there is; a brutal punishment for some actual or imagined transgression on my part. It doesn’t really matter to me what the actual circumstances are, so long as my arse gets at least it fair share of attention, then I’m happy.

That isn’t to say I expect, or even want, to feel His cock in my back passage every time we have sex, because I don’t; although it is certainly His right to decide which hole He fucks and how hard He fucks it. I can be just as happy with a good cunt pounding or a prolonged session of oral or even mutual wanking; but, when I’m in the mood for feeling filthy, nothing, but nothing will satisfy me more than getting my tight, slutty little arsehole well and truly fucked by Master C’s glorious hard cock.

#MasturbationMonday

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

#MasturbationMonday The Oral Sex Project Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday

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/birched soundly.

Step two: With my hands cuffed behind my back, I am forced to kneel before Master C as He wanks, then cums all over me.

Step three: I am pushed into the cage, the door is locked, the light is switched off, and I am left overnight to contemplate my behaviour.

Step four: At some point the next day, 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 denies 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.

Food For Thought Friday - #F4TFriday