Fuck cards and flowers, just fuck me


Valentine’s Day started, like a lot of other days, with a fuck. Let’s be honest, it’s a great way to get the heart pounding, and help you start the day. If an orgasm can’t make you face the day with a smile on your face, I’m not sure if anything can.

It was, as wake-up sex often is, a fairly perfunctory, but highly satisfactory fuck. Having established that I was awake, Master C proceeded to skilfully and efficiently get me in the mood. Lips and tongue on my nipples, fingers on my clit and between my labia quickly got me to the point where I needed Him inside me.  “Please Sir, can your slut have your cock inside her now?” I asked, “I would really like Sir to fuck me.”

Fuck me, Master C did. Starting slowly, but firmly, he sank His cock sank me. The pace quickly picked up, the force of His thrusts quickly intensified. I came, my fingers digging into His buttocks. Seconds later, with a final thrust, Master C came too, flooding my cunt with His lovely thick, warm wetness.

And that was that.

Evening found me in the kitchen, preparing a risotto from the remains of the previous evening’s roast chicken. While it was simmering, I decided that I probably had time to give Master C  a blow-job, so, stopping only to set a timer on the hob, that’s what I did.

It wasn’t one of my prolonged worshipings of His cock, but it had the desired effect.  I started slow but, in much the same way as when Master C fucked me that morning, the urgency took over and my head was bobbing frantically up and down in His lap as His fingers twisted in my hair, His hips thrusting His cock deeper into my mouth, driving the head into my throat as my fingers and lips worked on His shaft.

The was an intense urgency to how I sucked Him. Usually, I luxuriate in giving Master C a blow-job, as much for my own enjoyment of performing the act as for the pleasure it gives Him. Last night, however, much as yesterday morning, something more primal took over. I wanted His cum, I wanted it like a starving person wants food, or a thirsty person wants a drink. I wanted, no, I needed Master C’s cum in my mouth and, I got exactly what I wanted/needed.

That particular need satisfied, I returned to the kitchen to finish the preparation of our meal.

A little later, Master C announced that He wanted dessert, and that His dessert of choice was me. Unsurprisingly, I was only too happy to oblige; I never pass up the opportunity to feel Master C’s tongue on my clit.

Unlike our morning fuck, and the pre-teatime blow-job, there was an almost total absence of urgency. Master C wanted to luxuriate in feasting on me and I was not going to complain (not that I would). His tongue slowly but surely took me closer and closer to the edge of orgasm and then held me there for what seemed like an eternity,  Fingers twisting inside my cunt, His tongue applying firm but gentle pressure on my clit, He teased, tormented and tortured me, holding me on the precipice as fire screamed through my nerves demanding release.

I don’t know how Master C does it, but He knows my responses so well. He knows just the right amount of pleasure to push me almost, but not quite over the edge and then keep me there. Sometimes holding me on the very brink, other times, taking me there then drawing back, only to take me there again.  Last night was a combination of both.

Time and time again Master C expertly took me right to the edge, holding me over the rim, only to pull me away again. Each time, I was certain this would be the time that He would take mercy, and each time I would know the frustration of being denied again.

I was sobbing for release; begging to be allowed to come, but Master C had His own agenda; He would let me come only when He had had his fill of of my cunt.

When the end finally came, the release of energy and tension was beyond description. Volcanic would be one word for it, albeit an inadequate word. My body shook so hard I’m almost certain the British Seismology Society probably registered, my moan probably deafened the neighbours half way down the street.

My body was still shaking when Master C propped me up  against the sofa, parted my legs and slid His cock into me. I was entirely passive as He fucked me from behind, starting with my cunt, then moving to my arse. His strokes were strong and firm and my body responded. Even if I was incapable of conscious movement, my unconscious  self knew what to do; the correct synapses fired and I came again.

My cunt throbbed, partially from the intensity of the orgasm His tongue had inflicted on me and partially from the pounding His cock had given it. My arse now felt deliciously stretched and full as he drove into it. The top half of my body lay on the cushions of the sofa as he took me, my nipples being tormented by the nap of the material under them.

Master C came, with a grunt, unloading Himself in my back passage. My body still refused to move. I wasn’t in what you would call an elegant or ladylike position, but elegance or being ladylike has never been my thing. I’d had my cunt thoroughly eaten, and my arse masterfully fucked, I’d had one of the most powerful orgasms I’d ever had, and a few smaller ones, and I was happy beyond the ability of words to express.

Later still, in bed, I snuggled into Him, enjoying the warmth of His firm body beside mine, and drifted contentedly off to sleep.

So, yeah, some people like cards and flowers and chocolates, some people like romantic dinners for two; me, well I really love being fucked and that’s exactly what I got for Valentine’s Day. I wouldn’t want to spend it any other way.

Erotic Journal Challenge Blogging Meme

At His mercy


I’m on my back. My wrists are bound and tied, above my head, to the rail of the headboard. My legs frog-tied with rough rope that digs simultaneously into my thighs, calves and shins, the knots pressing into my skin. My legs spread as wide as the can in that arrangement, my ankles cuffed the tied to the outsides of the bed.

I can’t move. I’m blindfolded. I’m forced to wait.

Master C runs a finger over then around the curve of each of my breasts. His fingers then butterfly caress the insides of my thighs. The cold, hardness of a well-lubed, brushed-steel plug presses against my arsehole and slowly pushes inside.

I wait again.

Kisses on the inside of my thighs.

A gentle tickle of the ends of the flogger over my nipples.

Each action followed by more agonising nothing.

Hot breath on my labia. Fingers running up the insides of my legs. Master C’s mouth is so close, but so far away, and then it is gone.

Clamps applied to my nipples. The sweet exquisite pain makes me cry out, makes my cunt contract. Master C tightens them with a deft twist. My cunt grows wetter.

Again, the warmth o f His breath is so close. If I could just move, I’d push my mound against His lips, The licks and kisses to my thighs torment me. So close, so close, and then they are gone.

More waiting; each second an eternity.

My head is turned to one side. Master C pushes the head of His cock into my mouth. I accept it gratefully, something to distract me from His torment.

As I tease the tip with my tongue, His finger slides between my legs, parts my labia and slips easily inside me. I gasp. Master C’s cock slips from my mouth. His finger is withdrawn from my cunt and he puts it in my mouth. I taste myself as I have done so many times before.

His finger returns to my cunt and he feeds me my juices again. I accept them willingly, grateful to be required to do something more than just passively await His next action. His fingers then His cock each take it in turns in my mouth. I want to suck Him properly. I want to feel Him erupt in my mouth so I can savour His cum before swallowing it, but it’s not to be.

More waiting.

Again, His mouth approaches. He kisses my left thigh, then right; left, then right, each time getting inexorably closer. Seconds pass, minutes, an eternity of agonising anticipation.

And then, contact. Master C’s tongue touches me. “You taste divine, little one,” He says as He begins to slowly lick and tease.

I want to writhe, but all I can to is wriggle my bum against the bed. I want to reach down and press His face to my cunt, forcing Him to eat me more firmly,

I am at His mercy, He licks and nibbles, fingers and flicks in a way that He knows will take me to the edge and then holds me there. Each lap of his tongue on my clit increases the pressure inside me. Each thrust of His fingers inside my cunt makes its walls contract and has me begging for release.

Master C’s tongue is relentless. His stubble is rough against my labia, increasing the sensations. His fingers twist inside me. The onslaught is unending.

Again an eternity of agony, not of anticipation, but for the need for release. I screw my eyes shut beneath the blindfold, lights flash beneath my eyelids. Fire burns along my nerves. My clit throbs, my cunt pulses, but still Master C denies me.

I have no idea how long He holds me in this state; time is meaningless on the edge of the abyss. The cloth over my eyes is soaked with tears of frustration. The sheet beneath my bottom is soaked with my juices and His saliva. The scent of my frustration hangs over the bed, filling the room. My throat raw as I plead and beg for release.

“Soon, little one, soon,” Master C’s  are anything but soothing “Endure it for just a little longer.”

Resigned to my fate, I accept it. His tongue laps with a slightly greater intensity; His fingers fuck me with increased force. Pressure builds, mounting rapidly.

“Now, little one! Come for me now!” Master C gently commands.

A firm lick of His tongue, and I am undone. The dam breaks and I cry out. Waves of pleasure coarse through me. I sense Master C move above me. His cock slides inside me. My orgasm reignites as He fucks me with deep, powerful, forceful strokes.

“Please fuck me harder! Please fuck me harder! Please…” I moan, still carried on the crest of my climax.

Master C’s thrusts become faster, harder. His hands around my upper arms, farcing them into the mattress as He takes me.

His body collides with mine. The slap of skin on skin reverberates around the room. Master C moans my name as His climax approaches, “Morag! Morag! Morag!”

“Come for me Master,” I plead, “Release yourself inside me.”

Thrusts increase with urgency, His breathing deepens. I sense rather than feel the increased tension in His body.

In… Out… In… Out… In… A groan… A pause… He erupts inside me; the warmth of His essence flooding into me.

Some time later, Master C unties me, up around us and lets me snuggle into Him as He holds me close and secure in His arms and I feel the heat of His body against mine. Once again, Master C has restored me and made me His.

Mmm Mondays Meme Link Badge

A cock in the hand…


Like a lot of women (and a fair number of men), I have a fascination with the male reproductive organ. There is something slightly hypnotic about the way it undergoes its metamorphosis from the wrinkled, slightly comical, flaccid unaroused state into a full, raging, swollen hard-on. And, for me, there is nothing more satisfying than knowing that I am the reason for that glorious transformation. A hard-on cannot, after all, be faked, and I am always grateful for that very obvious compliment of my desirability and, well, fuckability that the man’s hard-on so obviously bestows upon me.

I love to play with those lovely inches of turgid flesh; stroking them, kissing them, wrapping my fingers and/or lips around them and giving their owner so much pleasure.

As I stroke Master C’s (or, indeed any) cock, I love to watch His reactions; the little moans and sighs of pleasure, the involuntary flinches of His body, the way His breathing changes as His arousal increases.

I love the way Master C’s cock stiffens and swells in my hand. I love the way the head becomes engorged and full, I love knowing how much Master C is enjoying what I am doing to Him, for Him.

As Master C’s orgasm grows ever closer, I am fascinated by the way his body reacts; the growing tension in His thighs, the involuntary thrusting of His hips that grows increasingly urgent as that most primal urge begins to take hold. The closer His climax gets, the more His cock twitches and jerks between my fingers.

And then, when Master C comes, when I angle His cock so that it coats my skin with a lovely thick load of His warm, rich, sticky essence, I marvel at the force with which His cock erupts, pulsing in my hand, the way His face contorts in an agony of release as His cum is forced out of His cock and on to my skin.

Finally, as I lower my head, wrapping my lips around the head, to suck the last drops of cum from it, I love the deep sigh of contentment that tells me so clearly how much Master C has enjoyed my attentions.

The humble hand-job is an often neglected part of a couple’s sexual repertoire, but for me, seeing the pleasure it gives a partner, especially Master C, it can be a deeply intimate experience.

Wicked Wednesday Blogging Meme Badge

An evening in the life of…


Master C is sitting on the sofa. I am on the floor between His legs. Almost inevitably, His cock is in my mouth. That isn’t how things started; originally I’d been facing the other way and Master C had been giving me a very nice head, neck and shoulder rub.

I’d mentioned previously that, on the work front, this had been quite a difficult week for me, but it had also taken it’s toll on Master C. His job is stressful and difficult at the best of times, and the current situation is just multiplying that. On top of that, He has to contend with me being extra needy so, after all the care and consideration Master C had shown me over the past few days, I decided some reciprocation was required and took things into my own hands and, from there, into my mouth.

I don’t know how long I’d already spent, licking and kissing, teasing the shaft, head and tip with my lips and tongue, being rewarded with numerous contented sighs, moans and groans. At some point though, I decided that what I really needed was to have Master C’s lovely thick, hard cock in my mouth.

I love sucking cock. I particularly love sucking Master C’s cock. I am absolutely certain that if you put me blindfolded in a room of men, and made me take each one in my mouth, aside from making me deliriously happy at the prospect, my lips would be able to identify  Master C’s cock just from the long familiar knowledge if its thickness, circumference and every ridge and ripple on its surface.

I love sliding my lips slowly down the length of Him, taking Him deep, having the head of His cock lodge in the back of my throat. I start slowly, up and down, back and forth, swallowing involuntarily when He is fully inside, swirling my tongue around the head and over the tip when I slide back up.

The experience of having done this to Him countless times over the years means I know His responses. I can feel the tenseness grow in His thighs and abdomen as my mouth works its magic. I hear the change in His breathing as the pressure mounts. The throbbing in His cock signals His increased heartrate. His sighs and moans of pleasure become ever more pronounced.

Master C moans my name as I begin to work my mouth a little bit faster. He tells me what a “good girl” I am as I suck a little harder. His hips begin to thrust a little, forcing His cock into my mouth. Master C resists the urge to start fucking my mouth, He wants to enjoy my attentions. The urge within Him to grab my head and drive His cock into my throat is hard to resist and dong so increases the pressure building in side.

I can taste His essence, I can sense the nearness of His climax. I’m torn, wanting Him to come, to erupt in my mouth so I can savour His load, but also wanting Him to savour this moment for as long as He can.

The involuntary movements of  His hips increase, His breathing is more laboured. I know Master C is holding back, fighting to delay the inevitable; not to deny me my reward, but to keep this moment going for as long as possible.

Faster, my head bobs up and down, taking His cock deep, sucking hard. A familiar twitching warns me that He cannot hold on for much longer. I slide my lips back until only the head remains in my mouth. I suck, hard, flicking my tongue over the slit, tasting the nearness of His release.

Seconds that seem like ages pass. The fingers of Master C’s left hand grip my  right shoulder. I look up and see the train around His eyes, that pre-climax tightness in the set of His jaw. And Then, like the flicking of a light switch, His face relaxes and moans softly. A moment later, I feel the familiar surge as His load is forced up His cock an pumped violently into my mouth.

His cum fills my mouth, pooling on my tongue. Master C’s rich, sticky manly essence is the reward for my efforts. I swallow hungrily then suck the remaining drops from Him. Finally, letting His cock slip from between my lips, I savour the last of His cum, swirling it around my mouth with, He tells me later, a look of dreamy contentment on my face.

I swallow and look up, smiling. Master C smiles back. “Good girl,” He says softly, “You are my very, very good girl.” I smile, knowing that I will almost certainly be rewarded more later but, until then, I am content to climb up on to the sofa and snuggle into Him while He recovers.

Mmm Mondays Meme Link Badge The Oral Sex Project Blogging Meme Badge

Celebration


If there is one thing that 2020 taught me, it’s that we all need to celebrate things more often. Achievements come in all sizes, from running a marathon to, sometimes, just managing to get out of bed and get dressed. In the year that was 2020 and is now 2021, those “small” accomplishments can be the greatest achievements of all.

For me, in my own particular way, I consider my submission to Master C to be a celebration. It is a celebration of the fact that He can take so much pleasure from my body and give so much pleasure with His and, of course, vice versa.

Each interaction, each slap of His hand, each lash of His belt, each lick of His tongue and each thrust of His cock is a celebration of our relationship and the simple fact that we are alive and sharing our lives with each other.

When Master C brings me to orgasm, it is a celebration of the skill with which He plays my body; that deep, intimate knowledge of what I need, how to push me to the edge, hold me there before allowing me the exquisite agony of release from the pent up forces of desire He has caused to grow and build inside me. He is the virtuoso musician and my body is his instrument, the master artist, and my body is His canvas.

When Master C comes it is a celebration of the pleasure my body has given Him. When He comes in my mouth he is paying tribute to the skill with which I have sucked His cock. When he comes in my cunt, or in my arse, it is a celebration of the fact that I have provided Him with an outlet for the release that He needed. When He comes, shooting His thick load over my face or my boobs, I get the pleasure of witnessing that explosive moment of celebration as He marks me as His.

And then, when I am in His arms, either post-coitally or simple snuggled on the sofa in front of the TV in the evening, it is a very simple but effective celebration of the fact that we are together, a couple, a team; not just a Dominant and His submissive, but two halves of a whole.

Life is fleeting, so let us all resolve to celebrate it more.

Erotic Journal Challenge Blogging Meme

Getting fucked


I can’t say that I’ve ever thought of fucking as a kink; it’s really just something that I do (or have done to me) and that I enjoy, A LOT! Over a period of 28+ years, since that very first time when I purposely discarded my virginity, right up to the one I had this morning, getting fucked is something that I relish.

I can’t tell you how many cocks I’ve had inside me (I could probably work it out but really, who is interested?) and I certainly don’t remember every time I’ve been fucked (although there have been some truly memorable fucks as well as those that have been long forgotten), but even where the actual fuck may not have been what I’d hoped for, or needed, I’m pretty certain the circumstances of the fuck, the anticipation, the build up, the moment of first penetration meant that none of them were entirely unenjoyable; from the drunken, late night, back-alley fumbled quickie, all the way through to the most prolonged and protracted, climax filled, weekend long fuckfest (possibly with multiple partners), fucking is simply something that I cannot get enough of.

Cocks, come in all shapes and sizes, and the range of skill with which they are used has almost infinite variety. The same cock can feel completely different depending on the circumstances in which it finds itself in me, depending on the kind of fuck that it is giving me, depending on which hole it is fucking.

And that’s the thing, it’s not just my cunt or my arse that I let get fucked; my mouth/throat are just as receptive to being roughly taken by a cock, of being used, of being taken and filled by a cock repeatedly thrusting into it. When a man grabs my head and roughly fucks my mouth, it is every bit as intense, every bit as rewarding as when he garbs my hips and drives his cock deep into my cunt or my arse. I readily and happily accept that all my holes are available for fucking, whether it be one cock fucking each in turn, or multiple cocks fucking me simultaneously.

The simple truth is, there are very few things in life that give me as much pleasure and sense of self-fulfilment as a fucking good fucking.

Kink of the Week Blogging Meme Badge

Maintaining me


My submission is a form of self-care, in that I am placing my wellbeing in His hands because Master C knows what support I need and what form it needs to be provided in. When Master C lays his belt on my skin, it is every bit as much for me as it is for Him.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a spanking as much as any nasty little slutty submissive, but when I really need a restoration of my equilibrium, the only thing that will really provide this is His belt.

People looking in from the outside might just see it as a way for Master C to inflict pain, but it is amazing how, in that moment, just how centring and rebalancing a thrashing can be. I literally rediscover myself in the kiss of His belt on my skin.

With each deliciously painful, stinging lash, it breaks me down, allows the worries, stresses tensions and fears to be released and then, when, with the hot tears still stinging in my eyes,  Master C takes me, uses me, fucks me; it rebuilds me and makes me whole again. It restores my being. I need the pain, I need the biting kiss of the leather on my skin, I need the heat as the glow spreads over the surface of my arse; a heat that spreads to my cunt, making me wet and hungry to have His cock inside me.

I realise that people may find it strange, but it is a very basic need within me; the need to be taken apart and rebuilt; a need that Master C knows so well and is most wonderfully attentive to.

When I thank Him (frequently with a blow-job), I am thanking Master C for the pain of the thrashing, the pleasure of the climaxes He elicits from me, and the restoration of self that the combination of pain and pleasure gives me. That “thank you” blow-job is as much a part of the process as the thrashing itself; it is a vital as the fuck that follows His belt and is part of the aftercare. It is where Master C gives me that opportunity to enjoy my newly recentred balance by indulging in something that, in doing it, in sucking His wonderful cock, I derive as much pleasure from as Master C receives in having me suck it.

This year has been so shit in so many ways, and I simply couldn’t have endured it without Master C. He has given me support and strength, nurture and guidance, direction and correction, but most of all He has given me love; He has given me Him. For that I am truly blessed and grateful.

No True Way Blogging Meme Badge submission 365 Blogging Meme Badge 4 Thoughts Or Fiction Blogging Meme Badge

Getting to the bottom of things


Yes, this is a post about anal sex. Now, I think it’s fair to say that women generally fall into one of three camps when it comes to anal sex:

  • Those that have never tried it.
  • Those who have tried it and don’t like it.
  • Those who have tried it and enjoy it.

I am thoroughly in the third group. The reason for this being that I’m fortunate to have a partner who knows how to do it right. Having said that, It may come as a bit of a surprise to you, especially given how much I enjoy it and how much of a mainstay of my submissiveness it has become, that I actually did not expect to enjoy anal sex. I was curious about it, and while my girlfriends and I were all agreed on how much we enjoyed fucking, sucking guys cocks and getting out cunts thoroughly licked, when it came to anal, the feedback from those that had tried it ranged from the damning it with faint praise with comments like “well, it wasn’t too bad, and at least he liked it” to the outright “there’s no fucking way I’m doing that again”. None of my friends, it seemed had a particularly positive experience with it.

Porn, didn’t really help. In the porn I watched, it seemed that girls’ arses were always ready to be fucked; generally, I realise now although it didn’t occur to me then, because they have been pre-lubed. And that, you see, is where I think the crux of the problems that my girl friends who didn’t like it lay. Unlike our cunts, our arses are not self-lubricating; the whole “Oops, sorry, wrong hole” thing doesn’t actually work. A man can no more stick their cock into an unlubricated arse, than they can an unlubricated cunt. Now, whereas, with some foreplay and attention, a cunt will get wet, no amount of foreplay will make an arsehole naturally wet enough to take a cock. Sadly, a lot of young people get their “sex education” from porn and it gives them completely inaccurate expectations of how bodies actually work.

Now, I think I’ve alluded to the fact that I’m willing to give most things a try, and, the issues with porn that I’ve described above notwithstanding, from the depictions I had seen of it, there was something delightfully degrading and downright filthy about it that appealed at some very basic level to me. I hadn’t even began to explore my submissive nature at this stage, but with hindsight it was quite clear that it was there all along. Even back then, at 19/20, I liked the feeling of being “used” by the guy who was fucking me, I loved the experience of being “taken”, and the more roughly I was “taken”, the more I enjoyed it.

And so it happened that, after quite a lot to drink, and having already been fucked senseless and eaten to numerous orgasms, I decided to let my curiosity get the better of me. I wasn’t a stranger to having the guy in question’s finger (or occasionally, fingers) up me when he was fucking me or eating me out and so, with generous quantities of lube being applied, he slowly got me relaxed and opened up with open, then two, and finally three fingers before replacing them with his cock.

Yes, it was a slightly strange sensation at first; it also hurt, despite the lube, but it actually felt pretty good. When he started working his cock in and out, it felt just as deliciously dirty as I thought it would, the discomfort only heightened my enjoyment.  All the time he kept saying things like “I’m fucking your arse,” and “Your arse feels so tight,” and calling me things like “Filthy Slut!” and “Dirty Bitch!” And in that moment, I was exactly those things. I was a filthy slut, I was a dirty Bitch, I was a bad girl who was getting her arse fucked, and I loved it. When he increased the pace and his balls started slapping against my cunt lips, I loved it even more.

Looking back, I think that was my first encounter with “subspace”. As he pounded my arse with long, hard, deep strokes, and as he told me over and over what a bad girl, what a dirty girl I was, I lost myself in a way that I had never really experienced before. When, at the end, he pulled out, stripped off the condom and shot his load over my back and across my arse cheeks, I really did feel like I was the “filthy slut” that he had been calling me as his cock filled my arse and he fucked me with an intensity that I had rarely experienced before.

So, yes, it’s fairly safe to say that he did enjoy it, unlike my friends, so did I, and it was definitely something that I intended to try again.

And here’s the thing, I believe that, if done properly, anal sex should only hurt as the much as the recipient wants it to. The level of pain and discomfort is directly proportional to the amount of lubrication applied.

As I’ve subsequently discovered, I actually like it to hurt quite a bit, and through practice and experience, I know just how much lubrication Master C or “The Other Guy” have to use to get the desired level of pleasure and pain that a good arse-fucking should deliver. That’s not to say that sometimes whichever one of them is fucking my arse won’t deliberately use less than that “optimum” amount, but that’s fine too on occasions and, sometimes I want it to hurt more than others.

So, if your partner tis one of those women who tends to shy away from anal, you may want to try and find out what her reasons are; it maybe that her only previous experience was with someone who watched too much porn and thought he could force his way in with just a little bit of spit. Anal sex can be a highly enjoyable experience for both partners, but men really have the responsibility to make it so for the person whose arse they want to stick their cock up.

#MasturbationMonday

Facial


I love cum. I’ve written about it before. It doesn’t matter to me where the guy (or guys) I’m with comes; I love it in my cunt. I love it in my mouth. I love it on my skin. I am, quite simply, a filthy little, cum-loving slut. I simply cannot get too much of it.

I love the warm, sticky sensation of a thick load of cum on my skin; I love it on my arse, I love it on my boobs, and yes, I love it on my face.

A lot of people seem to object to the facial cumshot in porn; however, nothing, for me, demonstrates Master C’s mastery over me than when He paints my face with a full load of His hot, thick, sticky cum.

Why?

Because it’s degrading, because it shows a lack of respect for me, because it’s so deliciously filthy. It screams of the utter contempt that the guy I’m with has for me, it tells me that I’m a filthy, depraved slut, it tells me that I am not worthy to be rewarded with their load inside me and that, instead, I should wear it as a badge of shame, a visual reminder to any who see it of my depraved sluttiness.

Humiliating? Yes! But that is the whole point. With Master C, It’s His way of marking me, claiming me, demonstrating His ownership of me. Yes, it is utterly degrading and contemptuous, and that is precisely why I love it.

Within our poly circle, Master C will ritually paint my face as a way of saying, “This is my slut. You may fuck her, you may use her, but she is mine.”

With the other couples watching, it is humiliating and exhilarating at the same time. The humiliation of being watched as I am marked in this way; the exhilaration of knowing Master C owns me. He may let the other men in the circle fuck me and use me. He may let those men put their own marks on my skin, but only Master C owns me, and His cum on my face is a visual reminder of that.

If I am a good slut, I know later, when we are alone, Master C will reward me, filling either my mouth or my cunt with another thick load; but that first load, the thickest, the fullest is the one that makes me His. Each person that fucks me, will know that I am His.

Wearing Master C’s cum on my face is a badge of my submission, it is a badge proclaiming that I am a filthy little slut, and that I am His filthy little slut. It is a badge I wear with pride; for I am immensely proud to be Master C’s slut.

 

#MasturbationMonday

Holiday encounters


I’be never been very good at monogamy and, it probably’s fair to say that before I met Master C, and apart from the couple “regular” relationships I had before Him, casual sex was pretty much my thing. I met guys online, I met guys in pubs, I met guys on holiday; more than half of my sexual encounters were “once onlies”. To be fair, even now, a lot of the guys I fuck still fall into this category; the only difference being that now I have to subject myself to the stern, but fair, discipline of Master C whenever I choose to indulge my insatiable sluttiness.

I mentioned recently that Master C and I had been on holiday in Greece. I have, of course, been to Greece many times. The particular event I want to share with you took place far too many years ago, when I was 17.

I’d recently finished school, when a group of us went on holiday to Faliraki on the Greek island of Rhodes. There was a lot of drinking, a lot of lying in the sun, and, between the six of us in our group, quite a lot of shagging; although I think “The Girl” and I were the only members of our group that shagged each other, but that’s another story.

Having arrived at the resort around midday, checked in, spent the afternoon lounging by the pool and drinking cocktails from the pool bar, by the time evening came, we were ready to hit the clubs.

His name was Gavin, he was from Manchester and, as it turned out, was flying home the next day. He was cheery, cheeky, a pretty good kisser and, as I was to discover, pretty good with his tongue and a better than average fuck.

A walk , well, drunken stagger, along the beach, resulted in me giving him a blow-job under the stars as he sat on a sun-lounger and I knelt in the sand between his legs. He had a decently proportioned cock and enjoyed the attentions of my mouth. He came quickly, filling my mouth with cum. We swapped places and he ate me out to a succession of shuddering climaxes before we headed back to his apartment.

The apartment was empty and we headed straight to his room. We stripped off and I sucked him until his cock was as hard as my cunt was wet and we fucked, and fucked, and fucked.

We were still fucking when his friends began returning. He was balls-deep in my arse when they burst into the room. They were chanting and cheering him on as he fucked my arse and when he pulled out and came all up my back, their cheers were almost deafening.

It was about 3am when I got back to our apartment. “The Girl” staggered in about an hour later. We spent the next hour or so telling each other about our evenings. The high point of her evening being spit-roasted over a table in front of one of the beach bars.

We fucked each other, licking each other into a frenzy, both of us coming hard before finally falling asleep.

All in all it was a great start to what was to be an fantastic holiday.

#MasturbationMonday