Soul is to be found in the vicinity of taboo.

spit

As I have said M wasn’t into D/s and power exchange, but he was fairly kinky.

There were a few things that he introduced to me which I absolutely loved.The first time he spit in my face was a surprise. Not because he had done it, I had known it was coming, but because of how much I enjoyed it. He always said that he would just get lost in my eyes, the brilliant sparkly blue gateways to my soul and it felt so depraved to have him gaze into them and, while making full use of my pussy, spit into those eyes, forcing them to close… This expansion of my kinks coincided with my youngest discovering he could spit. I have always prided myself on being a good mum, and fair. Now I was having to be hypocritical and tell him off for something that I happily enjoyed with M.

This wasn’t the only thing that I would have to teach my children not to do while embracing as part of my sex life. 

But how did I come round to enjoying the spit? It seems so degrading on the face of it, so disgusting and unloving. I had always found mouths a bit gross, and that included tongues and spit, but as with all things it is the context with which you engage in it. Had he just come up to me and flobbed in my eye I probably would have been appalled and sent him packing with his tail between his legs, but as it was we had discussed why I didn’t like mouths particularly, and over time he got me to enjoy morning breath kisses. For someone who loves ass-to-mouth it may seem strange that morning breath kisses could seem so taboo, but we are shaped by other peoples ideals as children and my mum was very much about not poking out tongues or spitting. (I dare say Ass-to-mouth would have been a big no-no, but she has never witnessed me doing that!!)

With the confidence that enjoying new experiences brings I was soon tempted to try something else that felt so very wrong…. 

My nose buried in his testicles and my tongue lapping at his anus I had an idea. Pulling back I looked at the surprise and mild disappointment on his face, then I got a load of saliva together and spat on his hole…before putting my head back down and pressing my tongue into him deeper than before. The moans that escaped him were exquisite and so arousing. The next time I spat on him he was on all fours, and I had his exposed hole in full view. His enjoyment of receiving the spit and subsequent rimming was evident when he exploded all over his bedding. I’ve never been one to waste cum, so I sucked his mess from the mattress. Again, how can it be so taboo to spit yet I think nothing of hoovering up a puddle of semen?

With his reaction to my actions I wondered what his reaction to his own spit would be like.

The next time we were together we had a very vanilla coming together. It had been a while and I had not had release so I was keen to have a second round. Laying there I spread my legs wide as he knelt between them, reached down and using my fingers I stretched my folds wide apart. As I was about to say “spit on me” I noticed his flaccid cock coming back to life. I had never considered that my spread hole would have this effect. Sir and MrN had been keen to see me continue with stretching while I was under their guidance but it was always in my mind that they would be thinking of what they could put in there, not at what the gaping hole looked like. M’s reaction caused a shift in my thoughts there… Still, I asked him to spit on me and put himself to good use, which he did twice more that evening, and we both fell asleep with daft grins.

We talked in detail about his instant raging erection. It had been as much of a surprise to him as me.

From this point it was only a short hop to him using my face, and I was very happy to experience it with him. Over this period of exploration we experimented with my gaping pussy and both of our spitting in a variety of ways. It turned out that I liked him spitting anywhere on me, but I only felt comfortable doing so on his genitals. I didn’t enjoy using his face, it just didn’t feel right to me. Maybe that is my submissive nature (using my spit for lubricant but not humiliation) or maybe it was the remnants of a slightly conservative upbringing? Either way I had learnt a lot about this new form of play with M and I was very grateful to him for being dirty and to myself for having a sense of adventure.

The look on his face at my gaping pussy will stay with me for a very long time though, and I am also pleased that he enjoyed taking pictures of it for me…

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Third time’s the charm: #SOSS

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I have had a really manic week for so many reasons, but have managed to keep half an eye on my blog and the wonderful posts that pop up in my reader. 

I had been a little worried about Curious Clitty, she had been a very regular writer and I missed her posts. This week she made a return with a post which made me stop and think. I think we are all evolving constantly, and while I am entirely submissive with Sir in other parts of my life I can very much identify with CC’s words.

In TMI Tuesday this week the first question was about feminization. It isn’t something that works for me, but I do enjoy learning what makes other people tick and Porn Girl must have read my mind! She sheds some light onto what she enjoys about it, and although I never thought there was anything wrong with it I can now appreciate feminization from a different perspective.

Dayliacatt is a blog that I like to keep up with and yesterday she did not disappoint. I loved the pictures, and reading the post I could almost feel the lesson being learned!

I like to read poetry as well, and sometimes get a little emotional if it hits home. I love time spent in my own company, and with groups of friends, but it has been a long time since I have felt lonely in a way that hurts my soul. For me Scarlett A. Rhiannon sums it up perfectly, and I may have had wet eyes after reading.

This image  from submiss34f really captured my attention. She has some other wonderful images too, I recommend anyone to pop over and give her a peek.

Most of all, differences of opinion are opportunities for learning.

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Photo by Lukas Rychvalsky on Pexels.com

M and I were getting along really well, but there was something that made him deeply uncomfortable.

He loved the fact that I enjoyed kinky sex, but my submissive nature made him a little bit cross. Power exchange was never something that I required of him, we were equals on all fronts, but on occasion I would do something that would anger him and it wasn’t until I pinned him down and demanded he talk to me about the problem that we could start to work on a solution. There was one time when he had a tight back, and as I was sat on floor by his feet I automatically went to put on his socks. I did not see that as a submissive thing, more just helping someone I cared about with something they found tricky. He snatched the socks from my hand and marched off to his bedroom to put his own socks and shoes on. Throughout my marriage behaviour like this (anger!!) would have made me quake in my boots, but I was different now, more confident, and this was M. I had no reason to fear him, though he did confuse me sometimes.

I gave him some time to calm down, and asked him why he had reacted the way he did.

It then all came tumbling out. How during our blossoming friendship he had initially enjoyed the fact that I was owned, but now that we were together he didn’t want or need that responsibility. Being my dominant was not what he had signed up for and it made him feel very uncomfortable to think I wanted him to behave that way. I had to stifle a giggle at that point, he could never have known that I did not expect or desire that from him either. So I explained to him that none of the things that I did would ever mean I wanted him to be my Sir, my owner, my dominant. He was my lover, my friend, my equal. And while I felt that a D/s relationship could include all of those 3 parts, my relationship with him did not include the power exchange and sadomasochism which I would associate with a D/s relationship.

  • This man I loved was gentle, scatty and a little bit flakey!
  • The Dominant that I loved was demanding, organised and driven.

I adored all of those things about both of them, but they were two entirely different men. And with sir away for the foreseeable future (I had no idea if I would ever see him again) I had no desire at that time to look for a similar relationship elsewhere.

This conversation marked a turning point in our relationship.

He became noticeably more relaxed, and didn’t fly off the handle when some part of my submission emerged. He tried his best to take it in the spirit I intended it, and kindly told me if something made him uncomfortable, and I tried to make sure I didn’t behave in a way that put him on edge. Not through fear of the consequences if I upset him, as I had been with P, but more out of a mutual respect for our different life experiences and expectations. By having the confidence to challenge the negative feelings brought about by our different opinions we learnt more about each other and grew as a couple.

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Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

TMI Tuesday: 29th May 2018

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

1. If your lover was turned on by forced feminization would you participate (giving or receiving)? 

No, it’s something that would be a big turn off for me and if he was solely monogamous and needed the forced feminization it would be a deal breaker for me. However, I would happily support him in finding a lover that he could fulfill that fantasy with.

2. When you have sexual dreams or fantasies that are aggressive or cruel, does it worry you? 

No, not at all. I have been on the receiving end of cruel and aggressive behaviours, and if I fantasized about reliving them I would be concerned, but the fantasies I have which are along a similar line are most definitely not the same… If anything they are darker! But the mind is a funny thing. And as long as I am not harming anyone, including myself, then there is no problem.

3. Tell us your hottest, sexiest fantasy, right now, in 100 words or less. 
This is the fantasy about your desires that you probably never share, maybe they even go against your morals or are societal taboos.

Being bound, naked, to the ceiling above a party, with a bell in hand and a straw in my mouth. Over the evening I am made to drink a lot, and when I need to pee I ring the bell. People can move out of the way or be put underneath me by their owners. I would be being whipped sporadically by Sir, across my breasts.

4. Which super hero would you like to have sex with? Why?
a. Aquaman
b. Superman
c. Wonder Woman
d. She-Ra

I’m not knowledgeable on superheroes, but I had at least heard of three of them. So a google search later introduced me to Aquaman. The pictures which are up for the upcoming film show a man with a naked torso standing in the water. Research done! I choose Aquaman, after getting rid of the beard…. Still none the wiser about him, but it’s ok to be fickle sometimes.

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5. Do you think the lure to live out sexual fantasies or have sex frequently is amplified by technology? Briefly explain. The desire to meet new people for sex and live out my fantasies has not been amplified by technology. The ease with which I can arrange meets has changed since I have come to understand how different sites works though; as a woman on any of the sites associated with quick and easy hook ups you get bombarded with offers. I also think that these sites are a lure for men who just want to sit behind their screens and wank but have no intention of meeting. It seems to be a common frustration among friends.

Bonus: Describe your fantasy life in three (3) words.

Honest.

Fulfilling.

Secure.

TMI Tuesday blog

 

The greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it.

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The day had arrived. I was prepared, physically and mentally.

Work was done, the boys were with their dad and I was heading west for “The biggest & best Kink night in the South West !!” I was beyond nervous, but knew that if I didn’t keep pushing myself forward I would start to pull back into my shell again, like a Tortoise. I had no desire for that to happen. When I arrived in the town I ended up driving round in circles in the one way system. It took me three attempts to find the correct road and car park, but perhaps unsurprisingly I hadn’t noticed the club. fetching my rucksack from the back seat I noticed a familiar person. LTM was walking out of the car park so I hurried to catch up. He walked me round and introduced me to the friends he was meeting at the door. Joining the queue I was directly behind someone I had been chatting to about rope, with the potential for him to tie me up. He was shy so I would have to ask.

As I moved toward the door the nerves and sick feelings gave way to calm resignation.

I had arrived, the queue behind me blocked any chance of escape and beyond the door lay a new world. As the door swung open I was greeted by three familiar smiling faces plus the venue owners. I was given a locker key and directions to the changing space but I couldn’t make my way through the crush of people so I stopped to chat with MT first. As he had been there early he had managed to hire a private room, and offered me to use it to change and store my bits. Accepting his offer I got changed in privacy and comfort, gathered my thoughts, took a deep breath and stepped  out to join the tour for newcomers to the venue.

There were four floors of kink to explore, with a hot tub, sauna, steam room and showers, as well as a social space, a dark dank dungeon space, and a larger play space at the top…

The large play space had a demonstration stage and a Fucking Machine.

MsD had told me she was taking it, and I would be welcome to try…if I wanted to. Less of a request, more of a cheeky challenge.

But would I?

Could I?!

What do you think? By the time the demos had started the main space had filled up. One woman tried it briefly, then another for longer. I was watching the action from the side, wanting to go up but not wanting to… When the second lady climbed down from the stage I looked up and MsD was asking who was next. Catching her eye I was still humming and ahhing when she crooked her finger at me and smiled with eyes that said “You know you want to.” Fuelled by nothing more than Diet Coke my inhibitions melted away. I wanted to do this, and I was damn sure that I would. So with an audience I stepped up onto the stage and stripped from the waist down, got into position and settled down for another completely new experience. I giggled an awful lot, and mostly rested my face in the cushion on the stage, but being watched over by so many people was quite a thrill. With SL by my side, matching my giggles with respectful humour as his Mistress attempted to get his new friend to give in and climb off, I discovered new reserves of confidence.

I didn’t orgasm on the machine but it did wet my appetite.

I knew full well that this wasn’t going to be the last time I used one, though I had no idea when or where the next time would be. MT introduced me to his group of friends, and a little later on he had asked if I would like him to cane my feet. He wanted to show her what he could do, and he also wanted to make sure I had a good time. Of course, I agreed! And he did a very good job caning my feet solo. He also used his tawse on my soles and on the palms of my hands, which felt delicious. Tr and CC were also on hand to make my evening a great one. CC giving me advice on foot protection when the heels had to come off (pop socks) and Tr making calming conversation when I was feeling a little overwhelmed by the noise, heat and throngs of people.

That night some of my friendships within the community became established.

As the night went on I chattered to so many new people, respectfully asking about things that were going on that I had never seen before, such as needle play. Seeing the variety of outfits and implements opened my eyes to so many more possibilities. Much of what I saw that night I had seen in porn, some had been used on me in person, but to see all of these other people like me enjoying their kinks publicly was amazing. And all of the beautifully different shapes and sizes of my fellow revellers triggered a change in me. I had learnt that Sir enjoyed my body, and he had helped me to be confident in my own skin with him and myself. Now though I could see the wonderful diversity, not all the traditional beauties you would see on kink.com but so much more. Men, women and everyone in between. Outfits ranging from latex to lingerie to leather, all-black to brightly coloured.

There was space for everyone, and that included me.

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There is no one giant step that does it, it’s a lot of little steps.

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Following Kink and Cake my Fetlife profile suddenly became more interesting.

Before I had even arrived home I had received half a dozen friends requests, and as I accepted them my feed gradually took on a different feel. No longer was it littered with pictures and writings by unknown kinksters, there were now updates from people I had met, experiences that I could relate to. Over the following days I uploaded a couple of pictures of my bruised feet and had likes and comments from people I knew. My confidence was still fragile and I hadn’t quite come round to the fact that people may actually like me; this was providing more evidence to the contrary.

I had a little over two weeks to wait until the fetish night and I was starting to worry.

I had the usual butterflies chasing each other around in my belly at the thought of going somewhere new. But more than that, I also had no idea what I should be wearing, how I should behave and how I would feel faced with 70+ kinksters in a setting I had never experienced before. When I started my journey as a submissive I assumed that these kinds of events would be experienced under the supervision of Sir and his ideals would be spelled out for me. As this was not to be I had to keep pushing myself, driving forward to this monumental task of my own setting!

True to form my curiosity got the better of me.

Rather than sitting and wallowing in my doubts and fears I took to the internet. Reading the event’s page on Fetlife gave me a clue on the “rules” and reassured me that I would be safe. It also gave me an insight into WHO would be attending. I had never noticed this before, but on events there are lists of people going, maybe going and friends going. I probably hadn’t noticed this because until this point I hadn’t had any fet-friends. Now though there were 7 people going that I had already met, plus the two hosts.

So I sent a few private messages.

The first person I messaged was Tr who had decided that he would be going along with CC. They had been to events together before, and as this was the relaunch party they were happy to travel a bit further than they usually would, and spend the night in a hotel so they didn’t need to travel back the same night. I asked what they would be wearing, and was told that they would be wearing latex. We arranged to catch up in the club and I looked forward to seeing them in their outfits, but I knew that wasn’t something I would be wearing… yet.

So no outfit tips for me there but at least I would know two people. 

Next up I messaged MT, the submissive man who had flexed his switchy muscles on my feet the previous week at Kink and Cake. He really put my mind at rest in a lot of ways. His Domme was going with her husband so he would essentially be going on his own and he said that he would meet me inside the door when I arrived, he always arrived to things early so expected to be one of the first in. When I asked him what he would be wearing I was a lot less intimidated by his answer; he would be wearing smart black trousers, a smart black shirt and smart black shoes. I knew that I didn’t want to wear all black, but I knew now that I didn’t have to go all in with expensive outfits. I had no idea if I would want to attend more events in future and was reluctant to spend out a lot of money on something I would wear once.

With MT’s outfit in mind I started looking for inspiration online.

I found a number of ideas and sent the links to MT. With his help I narrowed it down to one outfit that I would be comfortable with. I wanted to check with someone on the other end of the outfit spectrum and sent the links to Tr who thought it looked a good choice. I ordered myself the corset style top and had decided I would wear black leggings and my killer heels with it.

Outfit sorted with a week to spare, next I needed to work on what I would need to take.

This was easier as I didn’t have a lot of kit. I did have a pair of carpet beaters and a little leather slapper. My children had a lot of hot wheels track so I borrowed a length of that as it was something we had been discussing at Kink and Cake as a potentially stingy pain. With my kit planned and my outfit on its way all that was left was to wait. Fortunately work and the children took up so much of my time I barely had time to worry, and when I started to fret I did something I have never associated with stress relief.

I painted my nails, toes and fingers, to match the colour of the top I would be wearing.

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Life shrinks or expands, in proportion to one’s courage

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Up until this point my experiences had all been private.

My online presence could only be described as “lurking.” Now though I had decided to get out and about to events when I was available. My visit to the couple had been planned as a step towards this goal, and now that I knew the couple hosting a club night I felt I really wanted to attend. It was still a huge step so I found a sunday afternoon event which looked friendly. Kink and Cake was held at Studio Onyx and looked lively. Having a look at the profiles of the others listed as going I decided that I would send some messages in advance. The lady from the couple, MsD, was going to be there, and I spotted another profile where the owner had just posted a writing about his first experiences of events, making friends and finding his fit. He put some things that helped him in meeting new people, including this:

Here’s another tip… Well….I think it rings true at least… Be interesting, learn an oddball skill, find something you like and get better at it, I make whips, they aren’t too bad and I’m getting better at it and with them, but they make a great conversation starter as does so many other things!

I may not be able to make whips but I sure as hell can bake so I left a little comment thanking him for the writing and that I was going to take my own conversation starter in the form of cake. He replied later with encouragement to attend, recommending that I just be myself and people will respect that.

The next day I had a private message from him.

He had noticed that my first event would be Kink and Cake, that he would be going and that he was looking forward to meeting me. It was a friendly crowd, and they had welcomed him with open arms. All I had to do now was ask myself those two questions:

  1. Is it safe?
  2. Do I want to?

The answer to both was YES so now all I had to do was be brave. That sunday came round quickly, and I made a raspberry cake where the topping was made of icing sugar and raspberries blitzed together. With the ripeness of the fruit the icing was almost fluorescent pink.

If I had wanted to spark up conversation this was certainly one way to do it!

I walked in to the venue and popped my cake down on the table, suddenly there was a group of people cooing at the cake and chattering with me. The hosts made me welcome and introduced me to some people, MsD came downstairs from the playspace and introduced me to her slave SL (he quickly snaffled the first of his three slices of cake) and then the whip-maker Trautaruan (Tr) arrived with his play partner CC. There were so many people there, and everyone made me feel welcome. I chatted half of the afternoon away and ended up deep in conversation with a male sub (MT) and a foot fetishist (LTM) about bastinado. MT quite fancied learning a little more in his switch side and LTM had the skills, equipment and enthusiasm.

I had the feet so off we went upstairs, a merry trio.

LTM had a little rubber paddle and a pin wheel, and after I reclined fully clothed on a bench with my feet in some stirrups he took my right foot, showing MT how and where to hit me. They swapped back and forth with the paddle and as MT struck my left foot LTM would run the pinwheel over my right sole, stretching my toes back. They were working on my feet for what felt like half an hour and the pleasure was quite something, my body was responding in the usual way with pleasure tingles spreading like fireworks up my legs… Only this time the effort on my soles was relentless, the sensations were overwhelming and the tingles joined at my apex causing a totally unexpected orgasm.

An orgasm with no genital stimulation… I thought that was the stuff of legend….

The orgasm was a surprise and the fact that I had been fully clothed and not in a sexual situation threw me completely, would I be able to accept that I had reached orgasm through pain? I didn’t know, but at that point I decided not to think about it as it was too much of a challenge. I went back to socializing and chatting, the orgasm was a sign that I was very comfortable in the company of these new people. I had always believed I was socially inept, and during my marriage had been so isolated that I hadn’t been able to challenge myself to become confident in myself. Sir had worked hard to show me that I had every right to be confident and now, in his absence, I was able to reap the rewards of his labour. I even made plans to meet up with a couple of them at the Fetish club a couple of weeks later, and many of the people I met that day have become firm friends.

I drove home and went to the beach, where I admired my puffy soles and soaked up the early evening sunshine.

I had done it!

I had gone to my first munch, I had pushed myself hard and come out stronger. 

Life shrinks or expands, in proportion to one’s courage was first published on A Leap of Faith.

 

Nothing is more powerful than an idea whose time has come.

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Sir had been called in to attend a meeting not far from me, so K and I were invited to join him the evening before.

When he emailed us in the morning, I responded promptly and chattered to K via text but, unknown to me, she didn’t respond to him. I received an email later in the day asking if she had changed her mind as sir hadn’t heard from her to confirm. I reassured him that I was due to be at hers at 6pm, and we would be there in plenty of time. Our instructions for the start were the same as I was used to. This time there would be two blindfolds waiting, one each. We were definitely not allowed to draw attention to ourselves as we walked through reception! He emailed shortly after 6 to confirm the room number and K, who was testing my patience by being predictably tardy, replied that we were getting our stuff together and would soon be on our way.

By the time we finally got on the road I was a little bit frazzled.

In fairness to K she was nervous, and chattered away as we drank our cups of tea on the drive towards the hotel, a very familiar route in my kink life as well as my personal and professional ones. I was able to talk through her jiggling nerves with her, explaining what my experiences had been and what my expectations of the evening would be. I had to remind myself that this was her first experience of BDSM, and that it was a good thing that she was asking questions. Her chatter turned to her swinging experiences and I was able to just listen, and run through my thoughts as I drove. When I parked we nipped to the restaurant toilets to freshen up, and I put my heels on, then we were good to go.

The room was the first door you arrived at after walking through reception.

It was open, as always, and we walked through into the darkened room which smelt so familiar. Putting my bag of toys down next to me (as instructed) I handed K her blindfold and put mine on, and encouraged her to settle. My heart racing. Then he was there, greeting us, running his hands over my body and claiming me back. Today there was no collar for me, its absence weighed more than the thick leather band itself. First we were tied together, and then encouraged to explore each other. Then he used a wand on each of us, his Hitachi on K and the electro wand on me. Sadly the vibrations and static didn’t produce the intensity required to take me over the edge, and when he told me I was to be quiet with each orgasm I told him that the wand wasn’t getting me close, the vibrations weren’t going deep enough.

I had brought the doxy, and he switched over to that… which worked a treat.

And then I came repeatedly. Although she hadn’t been expecting it K experienced orgasms too, and was quite vocal. I understood why I had to be quiet… Two moaning ladies would attract undue attention. And when he swapped back to the electro wand it was even more fun trying to keep the noise down. That evening I was exposed to a number of firsts. Reading through my review for the evening I can see the disappointment I felt. During a scene he would always ask “Are you bored yet?” and the answer would always be a resounding no. This night he didn’t ask me that question, and it is the only night I would have said yes.

There were bits that I really enjoyed, and I was really surprised about them.

Such as when K and I were sharing his cock with our mouths, kneeling either side of him. I loved that. And when he showered us with his cum at the end, feeling those drops fall on my body and my face is engraved in my memory. Understandably there was no impact play due to the proximity to reception, but when we were bent over the bed, side by side and tied at the ankle, I could have wandered off and made a cup of tea. And when K and I were in a 69 (I have never been a fan of that position) I may as well have not been there while he took her from behind. We spoke about this afterwards and he told me that some Dominants would have had me sit on a chair and watch them use another woman but he didn’t see me ever not being involved. It was a form of humiliation. Something that I still don’t fully understand.

What surprised me was how I felt about sharing him. Not that he was mine to share.

I had worried that I would feel lacking in some way, or jealous at his attentions being laid elsewhere. There was none of that, for hich I am extremely proud. I felt left out, but never not good enough. And though there were parts which I wasn’t enamoured with, there were many parts which I did love. I have always felt selfish because of my mixed feelings about that night when I know full well that scenes with sir would sometimes not be about my needs, and given the meeting he had looming over him the following day… Speaking to him about it just a few weeks ago it turns out that he was a little disappointed with the evening too. Not being able to include impact play for me, us having to be civilised because K was more about the swinging than the kink and he didn’t want to scare her, and me not being as free in my sexuality to fully embrace it. I am looking forward to revisiting this scenario at some point, and seeing what we have both learnt from that experience and over the (almost) two years between then and now.

This was my first time with Sir of my expectations not matching the experience. Not bad for a journey of almost 2 years…

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Be brave. Take risks. Nothing can substitute experience.

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I wonder how many submissives have been tasked by their dominant with anal stretching?

Both of mine required this of me during my time with them. It was a task that I relished because anal play is a particular weakness for me…. It was my first step outside of “normal” sex at the tender age of….um….16. I have always loved it, and since beginning to stretch and train in that area play has been even more satisfying. Since learning to cleanse myself the prospect of ass-to-mouth has been an achievable fantasy, and I had shared this perversion with MrN. Because I was pushing against my hard limit of scat the risk felt really taboo, but I knew that I would never have to go there if it was dirty.

So far so good, no mishaps with my cleaning routine, and a gradual increase in the depth and girth of stretch.

MrN was happy and I was happy. Things were progressing nicely. And then we both had an impromptu evening; his partner was out for the night, and my children had a surprise overnight with their dad. He asked me to be available for him at 7.30. He told me he would be pushing me further, and I should prepare myself for all eventualities. There was the problem… I was working until 6 and had an hours drive home. There would not be enough time to clean thoroughly, and doing half a job was worse than not doing it at all. After checking if there was any way out of work sooner and realising there wasn’t, I sent him a quick email outlining the problem I was facing.

His response was that if it came out dirty he expected me to clean it.

“I’m sorry but, as discussed, that is a hard limit, I will not be doing that” was pinged back immediately, and he acquiesced. If it was visibly dirty I wouldn’t need to suck it clean. There had been a brief moment when I thought I should not have said anything, just gone along with his request. But the reason I (we?) have fixed limits is because we know what we are not willing to do, under any circumstances. And making myself heard was a new skill which I had been working on, with both P and H. Now that I had enough self-confidence to speak up, I wasn’t going to stay quiet if I needed to.

The drive home was good, my mind filled with impure thoughts about the approaching session.

I still didn’t know what it was going to be: a plug? a vibrator? a selection of pens?Wondering about all of the possibilities for the evening it is amazing that I got home in one piece! After freshening up and having a quick bite to eat it was time to catch up properly. I already knew that it would be an anal training session, but I was not expecting him to request I find one thing larger than my largest plug which I would be able to insert without damaging myself. Frantically searching my home I found my way to the kitchen and rummaging through my utensil drawer I found my rolling pins. I had two, one with corners at the end, and one with curved knobbly ends. The former would damage me, if I could even get it past the entrance. The latter was a winner. I chose to sheath it because… well… health and hygiene!

My choice went down well with MrN…

…and with lube, patience and a firm hand I managed to exceed my expectations. But then came the withdrawal. Oh dear! I’m sure you don’t need me to elaborate further than it not being clean. Safe in the knowledge that I had fought my corner and I could just rip off the condom without repercussions I decided that it was now or never. And how could I say that it was a hard limit if I had never tried…. It may end up being an amazing experience, in the same way that pee play had been, maybe? With my eyes raised to the ceiling with an all too familiar smile, questioning my sanity, I did it.

I cleaned the rolling-pin!

Actually, I didn’t fully clean it, but I did enough to cement that hard limit into place. As always I had pushed myself past what I was comfortable with, exceeding my expectations and pleasing MrN in the process. He had respected me and my limits, when I had reminded him of them, I had found it in myself to try something which I had would never have done but… I’m a curious girl.

The next week P decided he needed a rolling-pin… Guess which one he took. 

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If it scares you it might be a good idea to try.

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The saying “Be careful what you wish for” comes to mind as I continue on with my memories.

Actually the exact phrase that comes to mind is Be careful what videos you save to an xHamster account that you share with your Dominant, but it doesn’t have quite the same ring to it. I have mentioned before that MrN wanted me to set up a shareable page on the popular porn site xHamster and that I had one already set up with videos of things I was curious about. When we had our next scheduled evening there was part of me which wished I had cleared out the account before sharing the log-in details, started with a clean slate with him. While I was trying to maintain concentration on the conversation, with a medium butt plug in place, he brought up one of the videos I had saved a while back…

It was a lady who was fisting herself, and she looked like she was really rather enjoying it.

He asked what had inspired my choosing that one, so I came clean. When I had started on my journey with Sir he had asked about fisting, and I said I would try but was scared as I didn’t think it would be possible for me. I may be a mum of two, but they were both born by caesarean! So I had taken to the internet for research and inspiration, following a trail of filth through stretching and fisting, anal fisting and rosebuds, finally ending up on self-fisting. The video I had saved (and watched over and over to make sure it was real, obviously) was of a young lady getting into an uncomfortable looking position, and actually managing to insert her whole hand into vagina. The faces she pulled while the video went on were not particularly alluring, but the fact that she could do it made me excited that one day I may be able to do that too. And if I could do it to myself…? Well, someone would be able to do it to me.

Why don’t you get started then? he asked me.

He made a very good case, I could take the time that I needed to gain flexibility and also to stretch myself. He didn’t mind if it took a while, but he would like to see that I was trying. The facts were that I had saved it myself and wanted to do it even though I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to. These made a good enough reason for him to ask. Not including his desire to watch me in my very own video for him… complete with those faces, which were unattractive to me but had the opposite effect on him.

That was all the incentive I needed.

At the time I was slim and fit, with very little excess tummy and a decent level of flexibility and strength. I worked out that if I wore my killer heels and perched on my bed the angles all made sense and I could reach where I needed to. It helps that I am partially double-jointed, the only use I have found for this oddity of my body (aside from being able to win hands-on-the-floor competitions at the pub.) Confident that I could reach I started working on stretching myself so that my hand would fit. The reading I had done focussed on fisting someone else. Did you know there is a Facebook group for fisting, complete with safety guidance and technique discussions??!! Because of the angles I wouldn’t be able to fully twist my wrist at the halfway point…

I was just going to have to work it out for myself, google just wasn’t ready for my curiosity!!

It took me a couple of weeks, with regular stretching and attempts, to get to the point where I thought it may be possible. I had been keeping MrN in the loop as per my progress, and he was encouraging in the face of my scepticism. I still didn’t believe that this would work. So I set up the camera, got my heels on and perched on the edge of my bed. Using my wand to moisten me up a little I used insertables to stretch myself open, and once I had an orgasm there seemed little else to do but go for it. I lubed my hand up and started.

Feeling the ripples from the preceding climax around my bunched up fingers was quite arousing in itself.

Getting to the knuckles I started to pull my fingers into a ball and managed a slight twist in my wrist. It had the desired effect of drawing the rest of my hand in, like a corkscrew. I was so surprised that I had managed it. And I was so full, I could feel my arousal all over my hand now, as I clamped down on myself. It is an indescribable sensation, and had I been more comfortable  I would have stayed there longer, but I was starting to get cramp in my side and had to remove my hand. Taking a deep breath and feeling my overstretched muscles return to size I was left with a sense of calm. The kind of peace that I associate with deep sexual satisfaction. And while the video was uploading for sending to MrN I enjoyed the company of my Doxy for a little longer, and floated off in my little bubble of joy.

The feeling of achieving a long-held goal is powerfully erotic for me, and knowing that I had pleased someone else as well… I was one happy submissive.

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Do not be too timid and squeamish about your actions. All life is an experiment.

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My journey with MrN was underway and I was giving over a little of myself to him.

It was a peculiar sensation because I had given myself to Sir so completely and I hadn’t had the chance to take that back. MrN was the first person who had a hint of what I needed and so I felt some conflict during this phase, luckily I have always been open and honest and he was patient with my worries. It can’t have been easy to hear that his potential submissive still felt tangled up with her former Dominant, but he was understanding and made it as easy as possible for me. Just by being him and showing me the way that he wanted things done I stepped away from the past and moved forward, opening up a little at a time.

I had shared with him my initial dislike of watersports, and how the fear had given way to curiosity.

I had pushed myself to pee on camera for a self-assigned task with Sir, but had never taken it further. This was soon to change. MrN had a strong interest in pee play, and seemed to delight in my uncomfortable curiosity. The first thing that he asked me to do was to use a bowl as a toilet, and tip it over my head. He also asked for videos of both acts. I have never been gifted with technology, so it was the video part that caused me the most worry for this task. Fortunately I had a fair amount of practise with tasks over the previous year, but this was my first time in months and I felt out of practise and extremely vulnerable.

The best way to tackle those nerves was head on, so I got started on the job in hand.

Holding the phone in my hand I was able to easily capture the bowl being filled. The next stage took a bit more preparation though, if I got the angle wrong I would have to repeat the task and at this stage I didn’t know if I would be able to!! I had to move fast though, because the thought of pouring cold pee over my head was even less appealing than repeating the task. I got my phone balancing just so, sat in my bath, hit the record button, closed my eyes and….surprised myself that I wasn’t completely disgusted with myself for what I had just done. With my own pee dripping from my eyebrows, I stopped the recording, started drawing a bath and watched both back repeatedly while the bubbly hot water rose around me. Washing my body and hair I could then relax and compose an email for his inbox when he had the chance to read it.

I think he must have been very pleased with my efforts.

The next day I received a very positive email, complimenting me on my efforts and asking how I felt the following day, now that I had been able to reflect. Satisfied that I was still happy with what I had done, he asked me to repeat the task…almost. I had a pair of patent leather heels and he asked that, at my next opportunity, I pee in one of them and then drink it, again with video evidence. This was quite a big step to take, he knew that it would be a big push for me, but he also knew that I liked to be stretched.

Make sure you have plenty to drink, it will taste less strong that way was his guidance. 

So, on the next occasion where I had a child free home I hydrated well, took my phone and shoe into the bathroom, and off I went. The shoe was tricky to pee into, because of the shape. For some reason it was important to me that it didn’t overflow, so I had to stop mid flow! When I moved onto the second phase I just kept the camera on, holding it in one hand while, on the selfie screen, I watched myself tip my head back and drink. I drained the shoe. Not in one fluid motion, it took me a few goes and I gagged a number of times, but I did it!! I was pleased to be well hydrated, the flavour wasn’t unbearable to me but I could see how awful pee would taste if there was a lack of fluids.

Again, I ran the bath, and emptied myself while I did so. 

Relaxing in the bath I sent him the evidence and a short email. I explained how pleased I had been to complete this challenge, that I was surprised at how not-unpleasant the experience had been and discussed how, in my efforts for perfection, I was disappointed in the way my gag reflex had betrayed my willingness. His response “Well done N, you have done really well, good girl” It seems that I was the only one disappointed in my gag reflex. Life is all about experimenting and trying new things, and having someone to share that with made me more at ease with myself. shoe

And suddenly you just know it is time to start something new and trust the magic of new beginnings

happiness

Life seemed to be going quite well.

The sale of my marital home was nearing completion and I had a new flat to move into with my boys. They were settling into a new life with two homes. I had been promoted at work, had an increased case-load and became responsible for training new staff. I had some new friends who made me smile, and offered unconditional support. I had been able to assert myself in the kink world with my foot caning play partner. Also, it was the summertime so I was swimming in the sea and running as often as possible.

To top it all off I finally had an interesting message on BeMyDom.

He was polite and respectful, not pushy or sex orientated. He was looking for a submissive, someone who was keen to push themselves and try hard for him. I was hesitant to start with. He was in a long-term vanilla relationship and had no intention of leaving her. I struggled most with this aspect as I had no desire to be a dirty secret, especially if she was a good person. I could rationalise my infidelity, because P wasn’t very nice but this felt bad, and not in a good way. Also he was 3-4 hours drive away, which would mean we would mainly have an online relationship, hotel meetings may happen once every 3 months or so, but chances would be slim. I didn’t know if I was ready to give myself over to someone else, and if I was would I be good enough…? Also, he didn’t like to share his submissive.

In the end the prospect of an online relationship, with a married man, felt safer than a local single Dominant.

There was less pressure on us both, and I could start to free myself a little bit. MrN had a way about him which put me at ease, he was gentle and kind though firm.  We were both busy with our lives and so contact was an evening every week or so, with an email each way every day. We discussed likes and dislikes, needs and boundaries, hopes and dreams. I made a case for having freedom with other men if I asked first, he agreed because he would be in bed with his partner every  night and wanted things to be fair for me.

And so he began to set me to work, with tasks and rules.

The tasks that he set me in the first couple of weeks were sourcing items. Nothing expensive or that would need specialist retailers. My list included:

  • little bulldog clips
  • string
  • drawing pins
  • pegs
  • deep heat
  • medicine syringes
  • a small bucket

True to form I got hold of everything that was required. Then I had some preparations to do, DIY deviance. The syringes became nipple and clitoral pumps. He had originally suggested the calpol syringes for this, but I had to go to the local country stores and buy some animal medicine syringes for the right sizes. I had to cut four length of string to match my inner thighs, tying a loop in one end of each and attaching a peg to the end.

These strings puzzled me, I could not figure out what they were for! I was told to pop them in a safe place for a later date.

There were more things to make, things to keep me out of mischief. Many of the creations puzzled me, but my questions were met with the same answer… Put them away, try not to think about them. So I would put them away and mull over the possibilities. He asked me to set up an xHamster account for us to share. I could then save videos that I liked, as could he, and we could discuss. I already had an account, so sent him over the details. A couple of the videos which I had saved before coming into contact with him later became inspiration for him. And the videos that he shared with me were very interesting for different reasons. He had a heel fetish, as well as a sadistic streak when it came to pretty feet and a love of watersports. We had common ground in feet, and my curiosity about pee play, but my inability to walk in heels meant that his shoe fetish scared me in the best possible way.

I never felt that MrN was my forever Dominant, but for now we were able to give something to each other. 

carpe diem

Beyond a certain point the whole universe becomes a continuous process of initiation.

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It was soon time to meet with H again.

We had been in regular contact over the two weeks since we went out for dinner, we had discussed my likes, concerns and boundaries. I had asked questions which had been answered openly and easily. He had hired a play space for the evening, and we had arranged that he would pick me up from a service station and drive up together. That would mean I could relax and we could chat easily about any last-minute worries.

I was safer than at my previous encounter but I still had a lot to figure out!

He had already given me his telephone number and car registration, I even knew where he worked. At the time I didn’t have anyone I could tell where I was going, or what I was doing, but he didn’t know that, and I felt safe in his company, comfortable and relaxed on the drive up. When we arrived at the studio I was introduced to the owner who gave me a tour. I made a cup of tea and wandered around the rooms taking it all in. This was my first visit to an official dungeon, and I was surprised at all of the toys on display, the ropes and equipment. It also was clean, light and airy… Not what I had been expecting. The play space upstairs was well equipped, and the area downstairs was comfortable and relaxed. Drinking my tea, H went upstairs to organise the things that he had brought, before coming back down for me. Then it was my turn…

H bustled down the stairs and ushered me up them ahead of him. 

I took my clothes off, as we had discussed, and I was directed to the spanking bench which I folded myself over and the spanking began. With my behind nice and warm H tried out his belt and then his cane. I was more than comfortable to continue, his technique felt good and even, and he checked in regularly. It was our first time playing together, and I was unsurprised that he was gentle at this stage, I wasn’t stretched or outside of my comfort zone. So we changed equipment, and I offered up my feet for him to cane. This was what I had come for, the reason we had started talking. To say I was excited about this part of our session would be an understatement, but I was also a little nervous.

I needn’t have worried about how things would progress.

As H had been gentle on my backside, an area which was an established pleasure zone for me during impact play, it followed suit that he would not push me when he started work on my feet. He wouldn’t want to scare me off after all! I enjoyed the sensations a great deal, when I had used the spoon on my soles I had felt a nice tingly pleasure over my feet with each sting. As the cane strokes fell on that evening the tingling spread up my calves, it was altogether pleasant and I was a happy lady. I knew that this would be an area that I could push myself in, I would love to find out how far those tingles would spread. With H satisfied with his foot caning we changed equipment again. and while I lay down he produced a Lelo wand and used it on me until I reached orgasm, and that was the end of our play session.

I dressed and we tidied up the play space before going downstairs again.

Once there he handed me the wand, telling me that he had bought it for me that day, that it was top of the range and I should really enjoy it. Then he pulled out a selection of sandwiches, drinks and biscuits, insisting that I eat…once again he didn’t… but we had a nice chat about the space, what we had both enjoyed and what could be different another time.  As long as he was happy I knew there would be another time as I was curious about whether I could take more, and whether he could give more. And he was happy with that, though I did ask him not to bring me prawn sandwiches again, as prawns are a hard limit and I did not want to offend him by not eating them.

A small thing I know, but he was happy with my request. 

Following a brief chat with the owner, and making sure that everything was as I had found it, we were on our way again, back to the service station where my car was parked, and then off to our separate homes. I was armed with my new toy, and my brain was whirring around with the possibilities for a future session with H. I knew I would have to get used to a different style and not compare H to sir; try to forget the intensity from before and enjoy H and his foot fetish for what they were.

My initiation into Bastinado had begun in earnest.

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I really respond to putting myself out of my own depth and finding my feet.

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There is something which was of interest to me, something I wanted to learn more about and I definitely wanted to try it.

Bastinado

I had seen clips of it in a large number of porn movies, and I was curious about it, but I had no idea how to get started. For the first time in my journey I was stepping into unknown territory without an experienced hand to guide me, or discuss possibilities with. So I found some groups on Fetlife and got chatting with a number of people. It seems that there is a shortage of female submissives who are interested in having their feet caned! I could not think why; I had grown up walking barefoot on shingle beaches, sometimes for miles and once shredding my soles.

It had always had the effect of making me feel alive, invigorated. 

With a gap in the market I was inundated with offers for play with “experienced” men, many of whom were across oceans. I was always polite in my rejections, pointing out that it was unrealistic to pursue play relationships with them, and am still in contact with some of them. It is always nice to see what people are getting up to when they pop up on my newsfeed. There was one person who was fairly local, had a full profile and checked out well. H was very open about the fact that feet and foot caning were his main fetishes and he had not met anyone locally who could endure this kind of play, let alone enjoy it.

We agreed to meet up for dinner the following week, and I continued with my research. 

H had labelled himself as a sadist, but all of his pictures were of smiling bottoms. I did a bit a digging about him, because there is no point being part of a community if you don’t use it, he came up in a positive light even if he was a bit of a player… but that didn’t matter because I wasn’t looking for a new Dominant, just a mutually beneficial friendship. So we met up in the town I had suggested, and then struggled to find somewhere to eat due to it being the local beer festival the following day. We finally found a pub which had space for us. He turned out to be a feeder, ordering soup while I ordered lasagne. He barely touched the soup, but made sure I finished all of my meal. Over this peculiar mealtime we chatted, and he was very good company. He had interesting stories to tell about his upbringing and what brought him to the world of kink. He was married to a vanilla wife, and they lived separate lives. He had a submissive who had a boyfriend. It was clear to me that he wanted the same thing as me, friendship and foot caning.

The perfect way to start mending my broken kinky heart.

We agreed to meet up a couple of weeks later, and he asked me to try out using a wooden spoon on my feet in the meantime. And so it began, I was finding my feet, and learning more about myself. My task was to spank the soles of my feet ten times each, at a medium intensity. I did this one night after the boys were in bed and P was at work on a night shift, it meant that I could take my time to endure or enjoy, whichever it would be. What a sensation?! A little bit of a sting, but I was not expecting a funny pins-and-needles type feeling to spread over my soles. I realised that I was definitely going to fall in the enjoy group for bastinado. Next he suggested I stand on my door mat, bare foot, for a period of ten minutes. It was easy so I stayed longer, seeing if it would get uncomfortable (it didn’t). After reporting back to him he replied that he was very pleased with my level of submission, and that I was very close to the level he would want me to be at. This was a surprise as I had no feelings of submission towards him just a sense of exploration and adventure, but it had a healing effect on me.

Maybe I wasn’t a bad submissive after all.

11

Some days there won’t be a song in your heart. Sing anyway.

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Nothing could have prepared me for the sense of loss and abandonment that I felt.

It is hard remembering how difficult I found the first few weeks. I had given part of me to this man and then he left, taking that part with him. Aside from sending him the email I didn’t really know what to do, so I continued with my rules and tasks. I can see how that may read to others; why would I keep on when he had vanished? Honestly, it makes little sense, even now, except that I was floundering, I had no idea how to transition back to “normal”, or if he would pop up and say it was a test and I should have carried on, or…. At the time I needed the routine of the tasks, looking back I’m so pleased I kept on.

If I hadn’t kept on I would never have met E.

I had told him early on that I was curious about being bi-curious, and I would never have had the courage to explore that side of me without those tasks. I had been building in confidence, flirting and had even scened with another woman and her husband. When I started talking to E she was a breath of fresh air. Her fabswingers profile stated she was a highly sexed lesbian looking for no strings fun. About 5 weeks after sir went P was working nights, and the boys were in bed… E arrived at my door. She was 6 feet tall, slim, blonde and giddy. She had brought a bottle of wine with her, and a bag of toys. She knew that I was very inexperienced but keen, and she was excited to be playing with me.

A couple of glasses of wine later and the exploration began in earnest.

She was very caring and gentle, she was also very appreciative of my efforts. E shared her love of oral, scissoring and a strap-on. She was very attentive with her mouth, and when we swapped she was clean and smooth, not scented with urine which was a step up from the last time. I decided then that I only wanted to go down on smooth women. Scissoring was something I had never come across before, it was clumsy and awkward and I still don’t understand how it works in a pleasurable way. Now, the strap on was something different for me too. I had never seen one before and had no idea what they were meant to look like or feel like. The one that she brought (and enjoyed) was, I believe, a vibrator sheath attachment for the harness. It didn’t enter me and I found it a little disappointing, I wondered why people would rather this than a beautiful cock. She went wild though, loving every minute that it slid over her. I have since googled and seen in person other strap-ons, and I would love to try it again, with a woman who is less vanilla. And maybe with less wine!

When she left to go home I was so proud of myself.

I had pushed through a boundary and enjoyed myself. With a willing partner I had explored new areas and tried new toys. I was still stuck with the thought that this must mean I am a lesbian, that perhaps P had been right all along, that the reason I hadn’t wanted sex with him was because I wanted to sleep with women. And I didn’t have the option of contacting sir, to tell him all about it. I had always been asked for reviews after each scene or challenging task, not only did it give him feedback on my thoughts and feelings, but it was also a positive thing for me to reflect and digest what had happened.

Now though, I didn’t have that outlet, that form of after-care if you like. 

This was an important learning point for me. That I would need to figure out a new way to process my wandering mind after new experiences and intense sessions. I’m nothing if not tenacious so this was a welcome puzzle for me, a distraction from what else had been going on in my life at the time. I just had to figure out how to embrace this new world on my terms, without an abusive husband calling the shots or my Dominant guiding the way. The first one I couldn’t wait to see the back of, and the other, Sir, I missed with every aching ounce of my being.

My mind was working again, and I was setting the rules. Maybe it wasn’t all bad…

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