He knows me


I’ve written before about how my d/s relationship with Master C often acts as a form of restoration. As someone who provides mental health support, my work is often emotionally draining. The experiences that some people share with me can often be harrowing and there is no amount of training that can fully shield you and leave you untouched by what you hear. My working life is spent helping people deal with the traumas of their everyday lives; lives that they have to return to every time their session comes to an end. It’s a job where “success” is sometimes measured by the fact that someone actually makes it through to come back for their next session. There are always some “good news” stories, but for the most part my job is to listen and provide support as the other person unburdens themselves, albeit briefly, of the suffering and pain they are experiencing. I am not inhuman. Their stories do not leave me unaffected. Emotionally, a toll is extracted.

Sometimes I need Master C to be gentle and soothing. Sometimes I need Him to be harsh, demanding and rough. There are times when I need to be held, caressed and have my hair stroked. There are times when I need to be choked, thrashed and fucked so hard I almost lose consciousness. One of Master C’s many great qualities is that He has an almost instinctive knowledge of what form of attention I am most in need of.

Last night Master C decided that what I really needed was for my arse to receive “six of the best” from His belt and for my throat to be thoroughly fucked. When I received His text message telling me that that was what He had planned for me, a thrill ran through me. I hadn’t appreciated that that was what I needed until I read His words, but as soon as I had, I realised that, yet again, He was absolutely right.

I was on my knees, naked apart from my collar when Master C arrived home. He had me wait while He attended to a few things. My anticipation levels climbing with every passing second that I had to wait until he came into the room and instructed me to bend over the arm of the sofa.

Even then, bent over, my arse exposed and waiting, I had to endure long agonising moments as He slowly undid and removed His belt. He tortured me by pacing the room, an end of His belt in each hand. Occasionally He would pause and pull the belt taught, making a resounding crack as the folded leather made contact. Eventually Master C stopped pacing. He turned to me and asked, “Are you ready?”

I nodded. “Yes Sir.”

“Then count them with me.”

“Yes Sir!”

I waited. long drawn out seconds until I heard that short, sharp swoosh, felt the air move as the belt rushed in an arc towards me, then cried “One!” as the leather bit into my buttocks for the first time.

The second lash bit harder, the third harder still. The fire in my buttocks grew exponentially with each stroke. Each number was increasingly more difficult to articulate, having to be forced past sobs. Never has six been such a difficult number to count to.

After the final stroke, Master C cuffed my hands behind my back and instructed me to lie on my back on the sofa and tilt my head back over the arm. From His pocket, He withdrew a pair of clamps and a squirmed as He tightened them around my nipples.

Taking my head in His hands He commanded me to “Open wide!”

I didn’t hesitate. The swollen head of Master C’s cock passed between my lips. He allowed me to savour it for a few brief moments before He pushed on, sliding His cock inch by inch into my mouth, forcing the head into my throat. He touched my neck with a fingertip, tracing His cock through my skin. My buttocks stung from their recent thrashing. My nipples throbbed inside the clamps. He gripped my neck with one hand, squeezing with a gentle but steady increase in pressure and began to fuck my throat.

Master C fucked me with firm, hard strokes, forcing the head of His cock deep down my throat each time, fucking it in the same way He would fuck my cunt or my arse. My mouth was simply a hole to be fucked like any of my others, my throat there to be filled by His cock.

His grip tightened as the force of His thrusts increased. I struggled for breath, gasping hard each time He gave me a moment’s respite. Saliva dribbled up my nose, into my eyes; His balls slapped my face as He fucked me.

At some point, as I struggled to breath, my throat raw from the pounding it was enduring, my nipples throbbing in agony, I felt a familiar dissociation; a feeling that I was somewhere else, that somehow I was watching this being done to me as well as experiencing it. It was if it were happening to me and yet it wasn’t me because I was watching the scene as it played out.

I became increasingly aware of Master C’s breathing, I could feel the veins in His cock pulse, the print marks His fingertips were making on my neck. I could taste His urgency, sense the increasing tension in His body as He used me.

Master C groaned as He thrust hard, then pulled back. A momentary pause that seemed to last forever passed and then he came, filling my mouth with cum. With my head tilted back and my throat raw, swallowing was hard, but somehow I managed; His rich, thick essence almost acting as a balm as it ran down my throat.

I heard a sharp buzzing. My brain barely had time to resolve what this meant before I felt the head of one of my wands being pressed to my clit. Almost at once, my back arched, I let out a cry that seared my already raw throat, and I came, hard.

Eventually Master C turned the wand off, released the clamps from my nipples, removed the cuffs from my wrists, wrapped me in the soft fleecy throw and held me in His arms. The cares and stresses of several days had been cleansed from my body and my soul. The dissociation subsided, I reconnected with myself. Master C kissed my forehead and stroked my hair; while there. in His strong arms, I consciousness returned from whatever plane it had been to, bringing me back to the here and now, back to the real world.

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Going down


Leaving aside those encounters where I’m sucking someone off in a dark alley and where, by necessity, there is a certain urgency to proceedings; generally, my main considerations are comfort and maximising the enjoyment for both me and the recipient.

If you have even a passing familiarity with this blog, you will be aware that going down on a partner is one of my absolute favourite things to do. I’ve written before about the sense of control it gives me, and that is a big thing. Mostly though, it’s about the joy I take from giving pleasure to a partner. There is an inherent selflessness in giving head; you are doing unto your partner while nothing is being done unto you. Yes, I take a lot of pleasure from it, but that pleasure is secondary; it derives from the knowledge of the pleasure I am giving, it comes from knowing that I am entirely responsible for what my partner is feeling and experiencing, it’s the knowledge that their orgasm is entirely down to me.

Yes, sometimes, after a short period to recover, they may reciprocate, but that isn’t necessary. It may be that what I’ve just done is my form of reciprocation for something they have done to me. It might be that sucked his cock or licked her cunt as part of a “larger” sexual experience but, quite often, when I go down on a partner, particularly when I suck Master C’s cock, I do it, because I want to; I want His cock in my mouth and I want Him to just sit/lie back and enjoy the pleasure my mouth will deliver.

So, how do I like to do it? Well, I like to revel in it, to wallow in it; I like to give the task in hand (or should that be mouth?) my undivided attention.

Comfort is paramount; mine as well as theirs. If I’m going to be between their legs with their cock in my mouth or my face buried in their cunt for a prolonged period of time, I want to be comfortable. If I’m going to feel cramp anywhere, the only place I want to feel it, eventually, is in my jaw. Often this will involve me lying on the bed or sofa, but if I’m kneeling on the floor, I have a particularly comfy cushion that I tend to use to protect my knees (I’m not looking to add Cocksucker’s Knee to the list of medical conditions any time soon).

After that, it really comes down to knowing what my partner likes and enjoys. Master C has a preference for me starting slow, with lots of licking and kissing, whereas “The Other Guy” is much more about the sucking and being simultaneously stroked with my fingers. With “The Other Guy”, I tend to concentrate a lot on the very tip, as this is where he is most sensitive. With Master C, the whole head is pretty much equally responsive to my ministrations.

Both men like me to vary the pace. Both men like, occasionally to feel my teeth drag softly along the length of their shaft. Both me absolutely love it when I gaze up at them and make eye contact while their cock is deep in my mouth.

With “The Girl”, she likes slow, but firm strokes of my tongue between her labia, interspersed with rapid flicks over her clit. She likes my to have my fingers inside her as I lick her; sliding in and out and twisting around.

The key for me is to listen to and feel their responses; to be guided by what their bodies are telling me, to be receptive to any particular requests they may make. Master C, “The Girl” and “The Other Guy are all comfortable and ensured enough to be able to express their desires, which makes satisfying them so muc easier.

Of course, my own wants are also important; there are things I need too. There will be times when I want to concentrate on pleasing the head with my lips and tongue. There will also be times when I want to feel it lodged tight in the back of my throat. There will be times when I want to lash “The Girl’s” clit to feed her climax, and there will be times when I just want to lick her cunt at a leisurely pace and savour the taste of her on my tongue.

For me, giving the best head I can is all about being in the moment; I am concentrating entirely on the act and thinking of nothing else. It’s about attuning myself to the other person, reading the signs to gauge their level of arousal and, ultimately, the nearness of their climax. I don’t really have any “signature” moves other than the fact I always give it my best effort. It may be a bit big headed of me to say I’ve never had any complaints, but the greatest compliment is a satisfyingly large load of thick, rich cum in my mouth (or over my face and/or boobs) and the knowledge that they will want me to do it to them again. Nothing makes me a happier slutty little cocksucker/cuntlicker.

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TMI Tuesday – Nudie Cuties


1. What are your thoughts on public nudity or skimpy clothing?
Firstly, the clothes I wear are primarily for me to feel comfortable/sexy/warm/daring/<insert other mood here> in and for Master C to enjoy. I will often take guidance from Him, however; if he wants me to be revealing/slutty/reserved/etc., then that’s what I will be. I have absolutely no qualms about being naked in public, whether than be in the context of a gathering of our sharing circle, or in a swingers’ club, in my garden where I could, from certain angles, be observed, standing in front of a hotel window, on a nudist beach. I suspect I might draw the line at walking nude to the shops, but Master C has taken photos of me naked and/or engaging in sex in a number of settings where it would be quite easy for others to observe me in my natural state if they happened to pass by.

2. Which of the following best describes you:
a. Exhibitionist
b. Voyeur
c. Keep nudity and things sexual behind closed doors

I suspect the answer to the previous question more or less answers this. I am a combination of exhibitionist and voyeur. There is a definite thrill about the thought that I might be overseen, but actually knowing that I am being watched, whether that be online, or in person, whether my audience is only Master C or “The Other Guy” or whether it is other members of our sharing circle or, again, other visitors to a swingers’ club, is something that takes things to a completely different level. I do, however, also love to watch others. Watching one of the other women in our circle going down on, or being fucked by Master C gives a wonderfully delicious juxtaposition of emotions.

3. What is the most revealing outfit that you have ever worn in public?
If you don’t count a bikini, which in my case, I generally only ever wear the bottoms, in my student days I used to regularly go clubbing in a short skirt that barely covered my arse and a low cut, cropped top that just about kept my boobs out of public display. Underwear was optional.

4. There are only two types of beaches left in the world–clothing optional and must be clothes-free. Which beach will you visit?
Since both allow me to be naked, either is fine with me. I prefer to be as near to naked as is allowable when I’m on a beach. I find sweaty, sticky, clingy scraps of material to be decidedly uncomfortable so if it is permissible to dispense with their dubious services, I will always choose to do so.

5. You have just gotten out of the shower to find that your towel is hanging outside on the clothesline. Your house is full of guests. Do you:
a. Call out for someone to bring your towel.

b. Use something else to dry yourself.
c. Retrieve your towel as inconspicuously as possible wrapping it around you at the earliest chance.
d. Take advantage of the sunshine and dry yourself au naturale in your backyard.

Largely, I guess, this would depend on the nature of the guests present. Master C has contrived to make this very situation occur, and I simply just walked out into the room in all my clean/dripping wet glory. Option d. is a nice idea, but living where I do, the chances of the weather playing along is somewhat remote.

Bonus: Have you ever skinny dipped or visited a nude beach? Pictures would be awesome!
Frequently. I always look for beaches where I can go nude when I’m abroad. I’ve already said that I don’t like material clinging to me in the heat and there is something wonderful about feeling both the sun, and the sea in contact with every inch that is just so freeing and relaxing. If the beach is suitably remote and/or free from other bathers, it also means other activities can easily be indulged in, so long as you’re careful about the sand.

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Duty of care


The current No True Way prompt is:

“Aftercare is mandatory for subs.”

There is a certain ambiguity in the way that it is phrased. Does it mean that it is mandatory for the Dominant partner to provide after care to their submissive, or is it implying that the submissive must must care for their Dominant?

I suspect, in the general D/s context it is the former; particularly in the aftermath of any form of impact/discipline/torture/S&M session of your choice. It’s true, after a (very literally) bruising session, I definitely need all the care I can get; be that physical relief in the form of soothing balms being applied to my inflamed skin, the the emotional care of being wrapped up in Master C’s strong arms and listening to His soothing words. In that specific context, within our particular dynamic, given the level of pain I will have almost certainly had to endure because of my own masochistic tendencies, then it would be fair to say that, yes, the provision of aftercare is Master C’s responsibility. It is a responsibility that He takes very seriously. His strong hands, firmly but gently applying the soothing, cool aloe balm to my tender skin after a thrashing/flogging/caning is actually every bit as much a part of the “session” as everything that went before it. The bath He runs for me, the glass of wine He pours for me, the gentle reassuring words, the hugs, the caresses are all a very important part of the whole episode.

But what about Him? What about Master C’s feelings and emotions following an intense S&M session? While He knows and understands that not only can I endure the pain that He inflicts, my emotional make up means that I actually need it some times. I have written before about how I periodically need to be broken down and rebuilt in order to fully release the stresses and tensions of living. Knowing that I need it does not make any easier for Him to inflict it upon me. It’s not easy to deliberately inflict pain and cause hurt to a person you love, even when you know it’s what the want and need. It requires a kind of emotional strength that carries its own price. And for that reason, aftercare, for us, is very much a two way thing. I need to reassure Master C that I will willingly accept the physical pain that His belt, or the flogger, or the cane or the paddle inflicts. I need to assure Him that the welts and bruises on my back and buttocks are symbols that I wear with pride; they are the marks that He, and only He has and can put on my skin. I reassure Master C with my words, and also with my actions. It turns out that a long, slow, sensual blow-job is the most effective cure for “Dom-drop”; which is fortunate for both of us I guess.

But, what this illustrates, once again, is a point I have made on a number of occasions; namely that a D/s relationship is, first and foremost, a relationship. The aftercare element of D/s, is simply an extension of the care and support that we provide each other in all other aspects of our lives. We care for each other and support each other every single day; being in a D/s relationship doesn’t change that; in fact, I would go as far as to say it enhances it because of the need for extra care in those particularly vulnerable moments.

Trusting someone enough to actually let them hurt you is actually quite a big thing for both parties. I know that Master C is aware of my limits. While we may have the equivalent of a safe word, it is something I almost never resort to and on those rare occasions I do, it’s because of me, not something that Master C is doing because He never attempts to force me to use it. When Master C is doing something particularly rough or that causes me a degree of pain, He will often ask things like “Your enjoying this, aren’t you?” or “You want more of this don’t you, you slut?” or “You need a few more lashes/strokes, don’t you?” On the surface, these questions actually do have their literal meaning, Master C is actually asking me those very questions, but He is also checking in with me and reaffirming that I am happy and willing to continue. The language may sound demeaning (which is important because it plays to my humiliation fetish) but it is just another example of the care Master C takes. In it’s own way, Him asking/telling me “You need the brat thrashed out of you, don’t you?” is no different to Him asking me if I need help with a particular “vanilla” task in everyday life; the only thing that is different is the context.

So, once again, I’ve used several rambling, stream of consciousness paragraphs that essentially boil down to, yes, aftercare is mandatory for submissives, both the receipt of said aftercare and to provide it too and that applies both within the D/s context of the relationship and in everyday life as well.

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Don’t try this at home!


Sometimes I really don’t fully think through the consequences of my actions. Take the following situation for example; a cautionary tale from the early days of Master C and I living together, which was almost custom made for this particular prompt.

It was mid-afternoon one Saturday, and I had just returned home from a morning spent with “The Girl”. I was looking forward to having Master C remind me of “what I’d been missing” while “The Girl” and I had been enjoying each other’s company, in that particular way that He always does, after I’ve finished providing Him with the required and fully detailed account of what we’d got up to.

Having been playing rugby that morning, Master C still hadn’t got home by the time I had, so I had some time on my hands that I needed to use. Being home, alone, and still on a high after an orgasm filled time with “The Girl”, I stripped off and headed to the shower, where I spend a considerable time experimenting with the shower head to determine which angles and pressure had the most pleasing effects. This was followed by an extended session using my fingers and wand, and despite several very intense climaxes, I was still still incredibly randy and feeling decidedly naughty.

So, in my pleasure hormone saturated brain, I hatched a plan to prepare a nice surprise for Master C on his return home.

So, after rummaging in the bottom drawer for the necessary accoutrements, and pausing only to ensure a trail of clothing was strewn artfully up the stairs, I set to work.

First off was to secure my ankles to the foot end of the bed and attach the handcuffs to one of my wrists. Next was to fit and secure the ball-gag and tie the blindfold firmly in place. Finally, and this was the tricky bit, was to wind the handcuff chain around one of the headboard bars before locking the empty cuff around my free wrist. This is not the easiest task while blindfolded and after several failed attempts, and several muffled swear words, I was relieved when I finally managed to click it into place.

Now all that was left was to wait for Master C’s return.

After the initial cunt soaking excitement had passed, a dawning realisation that I hadn’t thought this fully through, began asserting itself on me.

It started with little things like:

Did I remember to lock the door? Or:

Has He got his keys?

Then the slightly darker thoughts like:

What if there’s a fire?

Then full-on panic:

What if mum comes round? She has her own key.

As time went by, there was the, what if He’s hurt himself. That caused a brief thrill of excitement at the thought of Master C being assisted home by a team-mate (or two) who might then join us, but it was quickly replaced with: “what if He’s really hurt himself and is in casualty”?

As the enormity of my predicament finally penetrated, I had one last, horrific thought:

Where the fuck is the cat?

By this stage, any randiness or anticipatory excitement had completely drained away and, resigned to my situation, I gave up and, somewhat surprisingly, fell asleep.

I didn’t hear the lock turn, I didn’t hear Master C make His way up the stairs; I was eventually awakened to the sound and sight of Him almost pissing himself laughing at my predicament. Which elicited a somewhat grumpy, “Well don’t just stand there laughing. After all the bother I’ve gone to, the least you could do is take advantage of me…” Which, from around my ball gag, probably sounded more like “Mmmph, unof! Umph, fmbl, gurrumph hmmm, ach!” Still, to be fair, after regaining His composure, take advantage of me He did; very thoroughly, and I enjoyed it imensely.

Of course, due to the ball-gag situation, I had to wait until Master C had finished His initial “taking advantage” before being able to recount my earlier activities with “The Girl”. This resulted in me being briefly released while I turned onto my front, having my arse soundly thrashed before being very soundly reminded of “what my holes are for” and ended with a load of Master C’s cum being deposited over my face.

So yeah, clouds and silver linings. I accept that, shining the cold light of hindsight on the situation, it wasn’t one of my cleverest moments. Having said that it wasn’t the last time that I acted before properly thinking things through and I’m almost sure to have further misadventures in future.

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Love & Sex


This week’s Quote Quest teaser is one that I have some very strong thoughts about.

“Sex without love is as hollow and ridiculous as love without sex.”

– Hunter S Thompson

Now, I’m going to be honest and say right from the the very outset, that I completely disagree with this statement. My disagreement can be summed up by answering two very simple questions:

  1. Have I loved every person I’ve ever had sex with?
    Absolutely not.
  2. Have I had sex with every person I’ve ever loved?
    Again, a resounding “no”.

Sex and love are two separate things; although they can often be closely interlinked. Love is an emotion, a feeling, a connection of spirits and souls. Sex is a physical act, a joining and (sometimes literally) coming together of bodies.

To illustrate my point, there are many people I love (and have loved). I love my parents, I loved my grandparents, I (mostly) love my siblings. Have I had sex with any of these people? Well, no, absolutely not. I also have and have had any number of friends, with whom I have shared what I would describe as a deeply platonic form of love.

The flip side to this is that I definitely love Master C and I love “The Girl” and also “The Other Guy” and I absolutely do have sex with them. There are also a couple of exs in my past that I also loved and had sex with. However, as anyone with a passing familiarity with this blog will be aware, I have also had and enjoyed a hell of a lot of casual sex down the years; sex where it wasn’t uncommon for me to never even find out the name of the person I sucked and/or fucked. I think it goes without saying that there was absolutely no love involved in these encounters (unless my love of the act itself and the way that act made me feel counts).

In a way, this kind of follows on from my previous post. I completely agree that having sex with someone tat you love and that loves you is special; it adds a whole several extra layers of feeling and emotion to proceedings. Having Master C roughly fuck my arse feels different from some unknown random fucking it, even when done with the same force. Why? Because I have a deep emotional connection with Master C that adds to it. Having Master C or “The Girl” or “The Other Guy” go down on me feels so much more intense than having someone else do it, irrespective of how skilful that person is. Why? Well, aside from their knowledge of what really presses my buttons, again there is the emotional overlay.

Don’t get me wrong, I (mostly) fully enjoy my casual encounters. If the person you with knows what they are doing, and is in any way considerate to your wants and needs, what isn’t to enjoy about getting soundly and thoroughly fucked? What is their not to enjoy about getting your cunt skilfully eaten out, or going down on someone else?

Good sex, even great sex, doesn’t require love for it to be satisfying. I have had casual encounters that have resulted in me being reduced to a dishevelled, sticky, spasming mess; fighting to bring my breathing and or heart rate back under control, that come close in intensity to anything that I have done with those that I love.

There is a difference though. Those casual encounters are physically satisfying and, to a certain degree, emotionally so as well. Sex with Master C or “The Girl” or “The Other Guy” also satisfies me on a “spiritual” level. Where a great casual fucking may satisfy me in body and mind, a fucking from Master C or “The Girl” or “The Other Guy” also satisfies my soul.

So, to me, sex without love is far from hollow; if it were I probably wouldn’t engage in it. Yes, there have been disappointments; there have been encounters that, with hindsight, would probably have been better avoided. There were times in my past where I’ve got under someone to get over someone else, but those are a minority. But for each of those fucks that have been less than great, there have been many many more that have given me everything I have wanted from them and, sometimes, even more.

Full disclosure; no one makes me feel the way I feel when Master C and I fuck. No one knows what my body, mind, soul and spirit needs more than He does. Sometimes, however, all I need is the “thrill of the chase” and the “surrender” that comes with letting myself be caught.

What can I say? I’m simply a voraciously happy slut that loves sex.

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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.

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TMI Tuesday – It’s All Good


1. What’s the most stressful thing in your life right now
Working in mental health care, the most stressful thing now, as it has been for pretty much the last 15 months, is the Covid pandemic. Now that things are becoming less restrictive, different anxieties and pressures are rising to the surface; people are worried about re-emerging back into the world and being amongst people when the situation is still very uncertain.

2. True or False. The best way to get over an ex is to get under someone new.
I’m not sure that it’s true, per se, but I’ve done it often enough in my past to admit that it was definitely one of the more enjoyable bits of having broken up with someone; and it helped take my mind of things.

3. Is rebound sex empowering or does it leave you feeling lonelier?
See previous answer. I wouldn’t say it empowered particularly. I’ve definitely enjoyed the sex in those situations, but then I enjoy sex full stop and have done whether I’ve been in a relationship or been single. It’s lack of companionship that makes you feel lonely and, while sex and companionship can often be found combined in the same person they are separate things. Sex is simply sex, something that can deepen the bonds between people in a relationship but, ultimately, something to be enjoyed whether you’re in a relationship with the person you’re fucking or not.

4. Would you rather watch porn every night forever or never watch porn again?
I enjoy some porn now and again, but I actually don’t really watch a lot of it. Truth be told, I’d much rather be having sex than watching it on screen and, in terms of watching sex, I’d much rather be right there in the room watching (or being watched). Push comes to shove, if I were unable to ever watch porn again, I wouldn’t miss it all that much.

5. Would you rather go to bed alone forever or share a bed with someone forever?
Definitely the latter. I love snuggling up to and falling asleep beside Master C, and I absolutely love that His body, there, next to mine, is the first thing I feel when I wake up.

Bonus: You must pick one and explain. Would you rather your mum or your ex set up and run your dating apps?
Pretty much, with possibly only one exception, I would let an ex handle this. My exes at least know what my tastes and turn-ons (even the one I wouldn’t want involved) so I think they would probably have a good idea of the type of person I’d like (having been in that category themselves at some point) and the kind of things I need to have a satisfying sex-life as well. As for my mum, well we get on well, and have always been frank and open, but there are some things she really doesn’t need to know or get involved in, and I’m sure she’d be happier if I didn’t involve her either.

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Restoring balance


Sometimes life can get a little out of kilter. The work/life balance can become a bit uncentred. Even at home, where life should hopefully dominate, the balance between the mundane, everyday parts of living and the more highly charged bits that make living enjoyable can become weighted in the wrong direction.

Often, when such things happen, it’s no one’s fault; real life is seldom tidy. Tasks can take longer than anticipated, things pop up that you weren’t expecting, stress, tiredness and just the routine of day-to-day life can build up and extract a toll that means you have to make more of an effort to do the things you enjoy. This can become a vicious circle as the extra effort needed detracts from the enjoyment, thus requiring more effort which can then reduce the enjoyment even more.

For me, sometimes all that is needed to re-establish some equilibrium is an orgasm or two. These can be self-induced or result from a thorough seeing-to from Master C (or “The Girl”/”The Other Guy”).

Orgasms are great stress relievers; you can actually feel the tension being drained from your body as your climax subsides and its energy dissipates; and with it, your cares/worries can, even if momentarily, be washed away. It doesn’t matter how I get there, whether the orgasm is a result of my own actions or the ministrations of a partner, the effect is pretty much the same; a warm, relaxed feeling of contentment and satisfaction that just makes the world feel right.

Sometimes though, more is needed. Sometimes things get so out of whack that there is only one thing I know of that will set me back on track. It may seem somewhat counter-intuitive, but sometimes what I really need is the pain of a solid thrashing from Master C’s belt.

In the ideal scenario, I’m securely tied to His “work bench” The clamps on my nipples dig into my skin as the hard wooden surface beneath me squashes my boobs. My ankles and wrists are bound tight, the leather cuffs chafing my skin. The ball gag in my mouth adds to my discomfort.

There is the prolonged anticipation that awaits the first stroke; an anticipation that almost turns to relief when the brief swooshing sound of the belt’s travel through the air begins. It’s a relief that turns to a hot, stinging pain as the leather connects with a resounding slap against the skin of my arse.

From there on it is all about endurance; accepting each kiss of the belt as they rain down one after the other. By the time Master C has finished, both sets of cheeks, my face and my arse, are flaming red. Tears stream from my eyes. My cunt is hot and wet with intense arousal. Every nerve is crying out in sympathy with my tortured backside.

I wince as He grips my hips, His fingertips digging in, and then I moan around the gag as His lovely thick cock slides so easily into me and He begins to fuck me.

Master C’s Thrusts are accompanied with occasional slaps to my buttocks. He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my head sharply back as He fucks me. Friction from the cuffs around my wrists and ankles, the pain of the clamps on my nipples being pushed into my boobs combine with the intense sensations of His cock filling me, pounding me, taking me, fucking me and I slip into the restorative calm, the eye of the storm that is my particular form of subspace.

All conscious thought is banished, my body is simply responding. Master C knows my body, knows its responses and can trigger this state in me almost effortlessly. I surrender to it; oblivious to everything but the sensations, the wonderfully delicious juxtaposition of pain and intense pleasure that coarse through me.

When at last it is over; Master C’s thick, hot load inside me, my bindings, clamps and gag removed, the soothing balm applied to my buttocks and I am lying wrapped up in His arms as He strokes my head; I am restored. I have found a new sense of balance.

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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.

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