Monday, 3 September 2012

Profile of the week..

Well this is a new one on me. Seriously now, can you imagine choosing a Dominant in this manner?  I've cut some of the profile out of this because its long and a bit repetitive but you get the picture.. Anyway, because he didn't specify (of course) I did message him and ask him how much for the charity if I won. He hasn't got back to me yet. Would anyone like to bet on how much? I promise I won't demand sexual services if you lose :)

This profile is to offer a simple proposition. A bet on a dice roll. I'll put up a monetary stake, you put up you. You pick a number, I pick a different number, you roll the dice until one of those numbers comes up. If it's your number you win the money for a charity of your choice, if it's my number i win you as a slave. Minimum 4 games played, if for some reason you want more risk or reward, more games can be played. Games stop at pre-determined limit and all agreed games must be played.

Here's your oppertunity to play a game, to win and make a real difference to peoples lives, whether that's children in africa, or cancer research.

Reasons don't matter so much, what matters is you simply turn up and roll. Limits for slavery, if any, should be discussed beforehand. You may wish to tell friends/relatives that you're thinking of giving up work and going travelling for a few months before you come. I'm sure you'll win every game and it won't matter...but you never know.

I've always felt that slavery by consent is just a choice unless there's something traded in return. Once something is traded then it's yours regardless, there is no choice it's been bought and paid for.   I'm open to simply buying you, but this is more fun for everyone.

Please understand that although i treat this casually (and casually is also how i'll treat your slavery) the consequences for you will be real and serious.  Sadistic, cruel, bad, nasty things may happen if you lose.  Of course, you'd never lose, would you ?

Friday, 24 August 2012

The art of communication

I wonder if you remember, W, erstwhile would-be Dominant? He of the slightly lacking personal hygiene and cluelessness in bed? I have to confess that I didn't handle that situation with him too well - as I'm such a Grown Up Lady (not really) I naturally thought the best and most straightforward course of action would be simply to avoid his calls and texts until he got the message. This only took two weeks. And then he sent me an email asking me what was up and that he assumed I no longer wanted to see him. I agreed that I didn't, of course, and although I didn't go into the whys (you are crap in bed + you smell + you don't listen) I was quite firm and unambiguous about the fact that I was no longer interested in something with him. But we could be friends, right?

But you know what. All of this is completely different to how W perceives things. A series of passive aggressive messages lately suggest that not only does he think I am still perfectly fine to flirt with and angry and personal when I don't reciprocate but that also, our split was a completely mutual thing. Messages that made me cross enough that I wanted to link to my blog with a short note describing how I was finished with him before he had rolled off me. But what would have been the point? To prove to him that he was wrong about that? I just would have ended up hurting and embarrassing him and I don't really think that I need to do that, not least for an empty and petty victory of that nature. At his best, W can be kind, thoughtful and make me choke with laughter. A bit of me wants to think we could be friends and maybe we could. But even if we can't, I am pleased with myself that where I once might have reacted really badly to someone talking (ok, writing) to me in such a way, I'm managing to let it go. At least at the moment anyway. Maybe I'll be a Grown Up Lady one day.




Tuesday, 21 August 2012

Addict

I have been spending a lot of time with Good Kisser lately; our schedules have led to the opportunity for some long afternoons in bed, and we have taken advantage of that time with no small degree of enthusiasm. He continues to be Good At Kissing, of course, but the sex... which honestly surprised me at first with how satisfying it was, is starting to develop into something that just turns me, during the time we are together, into a hot mess of lust. And when we are not together in bed, I just bask in the benefits that one can get out of simply having lots of orgasms, (never mind the pleasure of having someone in your life that thinks you are just the thing, sexually, and tells you so often). Better skin, better mood - no better sleep yet, but you can't have everything- and  better energy levels. At the moment, I am the cat walking with her tail high in the air.

However, I do feel like being with him has taken some getting used to. I did meet him on a vanilla site, and he never had this claim to being a Dominant but why should he label himself, after all. Why should any of us?  He is dominant in bed - I don't have a sense of being in control at all, physically or otherwise, but I think it is different, to the partners I have had in the past. What is different for me is that he gets his pleasure from my pleasure; So while he clearly enjoys spanking me, I am spanked because I love to be spanked, he pins me down because it turns me on to have my limbs restrained, and whereas in the past I might have spent time giving my partner loving and enthusiastic oral sex, it seems like my task is to lay there with my hips pinned to the bed until his tongue on my pussy, oversensitised already from two or three orgasms in quick succession, elicits yet another climax. Which I'm sure you would agree, is hardly a terrible predicament to be in.

I think finally, the difference is in the freedom. If I want an orgasm, I will have one without asking- usually. If I want to change position in order to better enjoy what we are doing, I mostly can.If something is too much, I don't feel the need to get through it because we have this dynamic that means I should push myself for his pleasure, we just stop it. It occurs to me that some readers might consider the preceding statements to be a bit... strange. In most dynamics what I have described here is probably the norm. But I suppose when you  practise (I'm not sure this is the word I am looking for) BDSM, other things become normal. This is neither good nor bad necessarily, just different. Anyway, the point is  I think we both know that ultimately, he is in charge of what happens in  bed - which is necessary, but right now seems like my job is lying back and having a great time. So I'm trying to become really proficient at that for his benefit. Tough life. All of this for a woman who, a few short months ago couldn't really remember what sexual pleasure felt like. My biggest problem now? Getting out of his bed.

Monday, 20 August 2012

Profile of the week...



not to sure where to start.Been into the sub side for long time ,now stepping it up a gear.If u are serious in your life to become part and partiall of being owned by a Master,u will be required to pay tribute as an attention getter for my time.....

Ah man, I had a whole snarky post for this one, including an educational piece on the etymology of the phrase 'part and parcel' and the lack of logic involved in suggesting one steps submission up a gear by becoming a Dominant. But it's not worth it. I just come over as anal as.. well, as anal as I am about stuff like that and that's no fun, is it?
The reason that I picked this profile is more representative of a couple of profiles I have seen recently. There is a bit of financial domination that goes on in femdom/male sub BDSM  (not as much as the Dominants would hope, I suspect) but asking women to pay tributes is a bit incredibly optimistic really. The balance of men to women looking for partners is too great and besides - you don't need money in this world when you offer on-demand blow jobs, do you?
(no, you don't)



Wednesday, 15 August 2012

On The Train

It felt like the hottest day of the summer and there was no shade to  be found on the station platform. I could feel little rivulets of sweat running down my back and the valley between my breasts, so maybe the black wool dress had been a mistake that day. I looked at Paul, my boss, who was looking as hot and miserable as I felt and he smiled back. We had been out for the day in a particularly dismal series of meetings and neither of us were in the mood for waiting for this train.
"Maybe we should go for a drink instead", I suggested with a grin,
He looked at his watch, and shook his head "It'll be here in a minute. Maybe we'll get some relief on the train"


The situation on the train itself was no better - people were spilling out of the carriage - there were  no seats left. He pulled me into the corner of the standing area near to where a window had been pulled down a couple of inches and I ended up standing with my face against the wall, holding onto the overhead handle with one arm. We were crowded in from every other angle, with far too many people standing and no room to move.  The train pulled slowly out of the station and I realised, with a feeling like lead weight in my stomach, there was no air-conditioning. There was no air-conditioning and our stop was 30 minutes away. I leaned with my cheek against the wall and tried to focus on the thin flow of air that was coming in through the window.

I could feel Paul standing behind me as he also held on overhead, his body resting lightly against mine. The smell of his aftershave was impossible to avoid as his face could only have been inches away from mine and I breathed it in, I loved the way he smelt today. As the train rocked and swayed along the rails I became more conscious of his body moving against mine. I smiled to myself; things had to be bad if I was thinking that way about my pain in the ass boss. My objectively attractive but absolute pain in the ass of a boss.

The train suddenly jolted and about 30 bodies fell back against me,forcing me even tighter into the corner of the train. I could feel the contours of his body pressed hard against me now and his other hand went out to steady himself but as the train righted itself he did not move back; his hand remained against the wall and his body remained right against me. He had to be kidding, didn't he?
His weight shifted again as he took his hand down from the overhead bar, and I stiffened as he placed it on my hip. A move that would have felt totally natural and intimate had it been my boyfriend squeezed against my body like that, but felt alien and provocative under these circumstances. But, since I'm being honest,  it didn't feel entirely unwelcome so I remained against the wall with my eyes shut, thinking maybe it would stop there, but how silly of me to think that would be the end of it. After a few minutes he moved his hand again, and he began to gently trace the outline of my bottom with his finger - a stroke so soft it was almost imperceptible but felt like it was burning a trail on my skin. My mind was racing at the implications of this. I knew it was wrong, I knew I had no real interest in this man, I knew that letting your boss touch you on public transport was a Bad Thing. I also knew that there was a real chance I was going to get to like it.
When his hand reached down to the hem of my dress, I took a sharp intake of breath. Maybe this was going too far. He paused, for maybe 10 seconds before he pushed his hand up behind the back of my skirt and I felt his hand land on the inside of my bare thigh.
"Open your legs" he bent his head and whispered in my ear but I was paralysed with indecision now, unable to move at all. I opened my eye and looked up at him and he was staring down at me like he had caught me doing something unprofessional in the workplace,
"Open your legs" he repeated, his whisper turning into a hiss. He pinched my thigh quite hard and turned his hips against my bottom and pressed his erection into me. Regardless of my internal panic this flicked a switch in my head. This was my last chance to bat his hand away, or shout 'stop!' or turn around and admonish him for this. But I wasn't going to. I didn't want to.
"Open. Your. Legs. Now."

I closed my eyes again and spread my legs a few inches apart, holding my breath against what he was going to do to me next. He started to stroke my thigh where he had pinched me, hand moving up further with each caress, until his fingers were grazing the bottom edge of my knickers. I knew I was wet, but I didn't want him to know how aroused I was so I shifted my pelvis forward with the hope that he would be satisfied with stroking my legs. Some hope. He used his body to push my hips hard into the wall of the carriage and it was all I could do not to cry out in surprise. I could feel his hard cock straining against my bottom and he began to kiss and bite my neck. I became suddenly aware of my arm, still dangling from my handle and I dropped it to my side, trying to relax my body into him.
"Good Girl",  he whispered as he pushed a knee between my legs and wiggled it, pushing my legs further apart and I let my body drop further so he was supporting my weight. His hand persisted now between my thighs, and began to lightly stroke my pussy through the thin silk of my knickers; trying to detach myself, I opened my eyes to look back at the countryside speeding past the window and noted we were still 15 minutes from home. I couldn't distract myself from his fingers though, and could feel myself beginning to react to his touch. He paused again, for longer this time, and I felt a thin pinch of disappointment inside. Was he really going to stop? Maybe it's better he stops, I thought to myself,  this is.. this is..
And then he put both hands up inside my dress and slowly began to roll my knickers down, from the waistband, past my hips, until they were halfway down my thighs. I began to wriggle again. He couldn't remove my pants in this carriage, could he? He returned one of his arms to propping me up against the wall and the other went straight between my thighs and began to stroke my pussy again, as gently as before but occasionally catching my clit with his finger. I wanted to cry out but I knew I had to be perfectly silent with so many people in such close proximity. I grabbed behind me, blindly seeking something to hold onto and found his shirt, which I began to tug on impatiently.
"Good" he whispered again, and began to concentrate his attention on my clit. I moved my hand down between my dress and the hard bulge at the front of his trousers and held on; "Oh, good girl, you are such a good girl", he whispered and began to rub more quickly. I could feel the pressure building up in the pit of my abdomen but I didn't know how to let go because I was sure I would fall. He teased and pinched, rubbed and stroked, and I was so close, so close but there was nothing to hold onto that would keep me upright and so I began to think I would not come. I began to push his hand away, feeling certain that this could not end well, and then his mouth in my ear:
"Come for me, you little slut", his hand fighting hard against mine now, "come on you dirty bitch, come on my hand"

And there it was. A gut wrenching, heart-stopping orgasm where despite myself, I feel my legs did probably give out from underneath me, such was the intensity. I suppose he must have stopped me falling on the floor. He held his hand between my legs, two fingers against my pussy while I rode down the aftershocks, my sweaty forehead resting against the now slippery wall.
As I dozily came back round from my stupor I noticed we were pulling into our station and I straightened myself up. Had anyone noticed? Maybe they had, but no-one was staring at me like I was a Whore of Babylon. I didn't care.

Paul got me into a taxi home once we got out of the station and nothing happened again between us. There were changes though. Files to be checked were returned with a smiley face on a post-it note rather than being wordlessly slopped on my desk, and a particularly fine job was rewarded with a  'Good Girl' and a bar of chocolate. Maybe he just worked out how to motivate me, in the end. I moved on to another job within the company within a couple of months and  he gave me a glowing reference. But he would have given me a glowing reference anyway, right?

Tuesday, 14 August 2012

Idiot me

You may remember reader, that a while ago, I  put a profile on a vanilla dating site. I decided that I would post a link to this blog on my profile so that without having to actually spell it out myself, potential respondents could have a look at what I was into before they contacted me . I know that what I'm into, while not exactly snuff movie territory is not exactly to everyone's taste - no matter what the 50 shades audience think. I suppose I did this because I was getting so many messages, that I didn't want to have to further filter for men who were looking for dominant women, or were just a bit tame and vanilla for my tastes or you know, just weren't going to get or appreciate me. Or couldn't read words made up of greater than 2 syllables - (there were plenty of those).

I suppose I thought it was ok to do it because I thought it was kind of a joke, that site. I was never really looking for anyone in a serious way - I was seeing a Dominant, sort of, and I thought it was just a nice distraction from exam revision and actually, who gave a shit what I wrote here? I certainly never thought I would meet a vanilla that I felt in anyway serious about - because I.. because I am submissive? And I thought I really needed someone who was able to take control of me outside of bed as well as inside of it.


In hindsight this was a horrendous idea. Why didn't I think for more than 30 seconds about this? Why didn't I see the future of...  I date one guy who I've agreed not to write about (for various complicated reasons that, well, I can't write about), one guy who I want to write about all the time but feel reluctant to because he might freak out about just how much I love being with him (although, I think he must know) and a few non-starters that have never really gone anywhere but have the option of having a look into my head, or my virtual knicker drawer, whenever they like. I try not to think about any of them when I do write things, because you can't, can you, if you want to put anything other than the most surface level of stuff down? Except I do - I do it all the time, so I don't think I'm getting anywhere with this blog, I'm just stating the facile. And I can't think of any possible solution to this shitfuckcrap.fuckingfuckityfuck.

I even feel crap writing this because I've read a few blogs lately where the blog itself has been the subject and I think.. flipping hell, it's not that important.. its just a blog, no-one else that is reading these words cares how frequently you blog, or how many comments you get or whatever the problem is... And now I think, flipping hell Miss G, leave the 4th wall alone. But it doesn't solve the probem and apart from turning into an invite-only read blog, which would make me feel like a bit of a wanker, I'm not sure what to do. I am an idiot.

Monday, 13 August 2012

Profile of the week...



Do not contact me. Do you hear me? In fact, don't even read any further. This is not for you. This is just for friends, that I already have. I don't want any more friends, in fact, I'm just blogging here to make a dramatic statement about how I don't want anyone else to read my blog. And do not comment. Ever.
What? You don't think that makes any sense?! Oh well, I'm just following the example of this guy who has a live profile on the kinky dating site apparently actively seeking submissive females. Sorry girls, looks like he's off kink for good. But on the upside he does wish you a good day.

I am now down with the lifestyle for good I remain on <kinky dating site> only to speak with those friends I have made do not contact me as I am NOT interested any more.

Thank you and have a good day everyone.

 No, no. You have a good day.You know, you could just hide your profile?


As an aside by the way, check out my updated blogroll!

Thursday, 9 August 2012

You can talk to me...

So I have a friend, who I am very fond of. Despite everything.
She has lots of really amazing qualities that I love and that I am not always in great supply of: she is patient, open and friendly to new people and situations, optimistic and creative. I love spending time with her for these reasons. She also has a car crash mother, so we have a lot to talk about.
But. She is nosey, and a touch judgemental (she disapproved to me, quite strongly about her sister, who meets men from the internet in the interest of having purely sexual relationships. Imagine that.) and a bit of a gossip. I know things about mutual friends and acquaintances that I just should not know because of her free way with information. And so for reasons that I am sure you quite understand, reader, I am reluctant to share too much with her. She knows that I don't have sex with my partner, but that's all really.

We usually swap a bit of daytime babysitting once a week, and this Wednesday it was my chance to escape into adultland for a few hours. I dropped my son off and sat down for the obligatory cup of tea. I had a date that afternoon, so I was reluctant to hang around too long, but she really wanted to chat. About what I was doing that afternoon, and why, why had I escaped the mummy uniform of jeans and a top.. and wow.. you really look nice when you do your eye makeup like that.
So here's what I wanted to say:

I'm going to go to a nice hotel in town now, where I will meet a lover in the bar. He lives a couple of hundred miles away and doesn't get here very often, so you can understand I am quite eager to see him. We will have a drink and then we will go in the lift to a room.If it is anything like last time, when we are in the lift he will probably stand behind me and put his hand up my skirt, to check that I have been obedient in not wearing knickers, and if we have more than one floor to travel, his fingers might find my pussy. He will be pleased, because I am an obedient girl. If it is anything like last time, We will go into the room and immediately the door is closed he will push me down onto my knees and fuck my mouth until I dribble and cry and he has forced the air out of my lungs. My remaining clothes will be removed and he will spend the next hour or so alternating between slapping me hard in varying places and pushing me to almost-orgasm with his fingers and mouth but not quite allowing me to get there. He will say some horrible things to me whilst doing this, he will call me a slut and a whore and tell me all the nasty things he wants to do to me. Just when I feel like I will explode, he will push my legs apart and fuck me. If I am lucky he will kneel between my legs and rub my clit as he fucks me so I can quickly come over his nice big cock. Then he will make me kneel in front of him and he will fuck me from behind whilst holding my hips and giving my arse the odd slap. I might come again. He will take a wet finger, and slowly but firmly bury it in my arse, whispering now about fucking me there. This will make me growl and pant with arousal, and his thrusts will get faster and deeper until he comes inside of me. After this we will hold eachother, and talk and nap until I have to go.
Or you know, we might do something different.

But I said: Oh, I'm just meeting a friend for a drink in town.
And she said, looking me in the eye in a searching way:  You can tell me anything you know, you can talk to me.

Right, Uh huh.
No.

Tuesday, 7 August 2012

No fucking no sleep no fucking sleep


I have insomnia and I am totally going to fail at life if this carries on. Although, sitting up watching The Office on netflix at 2.30am has it's charms, it doesn't feel so good at 8am dealing with breakfasts and children's TV shows. It feels bad. And it feels bad until about 4pm when I get my second wind and I'm good for another 12 hours. Fucking horrible.
I don't know what it is really, I just feel a little bit... blocked.

Living and sharing a bed with someone when you do not have sex with them is not the end of the world, by any means. When you've been with someone for 12 years, had a kid together, vote the same way and still laugh at the same stuff - for me anyway, it is a perfectly tolerable situation. I mean, Mr G is very comfortable to be around and I don't feel any negativity towards this  someone that I've grown into happy sibling-like companionship with. I know from the interwebs that lots of people don't feel that way about their relationships - feel like a marriage with no sex is no marriage at all - and I have a degree of empathy with this point of view. Now, Mr G and I are not married and never will be, but I have never thought that it is my duty within a relationship (or his, for that matter) to provide sex. Human relationships are made up of all kinds of things, after all.
But where it is hard, really bloody difficult actually, is when you think to yourself... Goddamn, I could really do with a nice hard spanking and some sex and then I would sleep - I know I would sleep... And you can think of two or three potential candidates. But you are not in their bed. You are in bed with a man who thinks that spanking and BDSM are a bit sick and unhealthy to be honest, a man who probably would have sex if you wanted to have sex with a friend that was gentle and fairly unmoving, and therefore, you will be having neither sex nor spanking and probably no sleep till the sun starts peeking over the horizon and the birds start singing their tuneful song about being awake in 4 hours time to make breakfast.
Oh well. This too shall pass.


Monday, 6 August 2012

Monday Monday

Yes, I know that imagine-communicating with my mother through this blog is an exercise in perfect futility. I would never give her the address of this blog (oh, my.. just imagine that), wouldn't dream of it even if it were my vanilla childcare, crochet and cupcakes blog.. but I was so angry that day.
Am still so angry, actually, and since I am not willing to engage in her bizarre Jerry Springer stylee behaviour to let her know (she must know - she did something so very bad (on my motherfucking birthday by the way), even someone with her shallow ability of feeling and narrow capacity for thought would know), it kind of leaks out everywhere. I've tried therapy, folks. I can assure, blogging is cheaper. But this isn't really the place to deal with my Hammer Horror parent stories, so...

Otherwise, not much to tell around here. A happy grownup weekend  away with some friends and some almost-sex but ultimately a little bit too much birthday booze and weed to get past '..oh that feels good, hey, I might just have a little snooze now' .  Just goes to show that it catches up with you when you turn into an old lady like me. Gonn' need to make up for it somewhere soon.

Monday, 30 July 2012

Profile of the week...

Ta da! It's back. For this week anyway.

I don't know about you guys, but there's nothing I find sexier than a dominant with paranoid political apocalypse fantasies. Let me clear out a panic room for you with lots of tinned goods and a torch and we'll make sweet, pleasing love until they come for us... no?

Anyway, I'm from 'good stock', I have skillz outside the bedroom and I'm fairly (ahem) tolerant of the political and religious views of others.. OK,  That bit is is clearly not true. I am clearly a poor candidate for a poly wilderness family. So what do you reckon?


I am looking for an Alpha sub to run my household. I am also looking for young subs of good stock (No apparent disease, mutations, mental illness, and no criminal record) and of both sexes to join my family. I am putting together a wilderness poly family to conceive children and survive the calamity that I believe is very near. You should have a strong body and some skills outside the bedroom.

As for sexual contact; No attempt will be made to prevent legal sexual behavior, however, reproduction will be controlled. The point of this family is to survive civil collapse. Children are a drain on resources and so only mating with the strongest potential outcome will be condoned.

I am not looking for a masochist or a pain slut. I am a gentle Master. I expect you to have friends and a job but all of that will remain secondary to our needs.
I could care less about the Mayan or other similar myths. We face an unavoidable financial and civil crisis in the very near future. I wish to survive it with a group of people that share my Libertarian views.

Now for the obvious, no child abuse will be tolerated, however we don’t subscribe to the liberal notion that children cannot be disciplined. We also will not abide intolerance of any kind. Bi, gay, straight, Agnostic, Christian or Muslim is irrelevant. Members of the family group will choose for themselves what if any title they wish to carry in life, religion or relationships. My role will be arbitrator, peace maker or Buck Stopper as the situation requires. I am not an elitist, Liberal, Christian or Conservative. I am a man seeking a sane and safe place to reside with people that wish to raise children with the same values. If that gives someone the creeps, so be it. No one is forcing anyone to join the group.


Wednesday, 25 July 2012

50 shades of...







Reader, you know I have never read Fifty Shades of Grey, or it's sequels, but only because I have been assured they are not very good. There is even a post here, by a perfectly sensible and clearly bright blogger, Naughty Anna, which describes the reading process quite well. It sounds awful. But I haven't read it myself (and probably never will), so who am I to judge?

Anyway, this pic turned up on twitter yesterday and made me laugh. Can you imagine walking into WH Smith and putting up a notice like that? No, me neither, but maybe we should..

I will not judge your kink, I will not judge your kink, I will not judge...

Oh, alright, I will judge your kink...




As an observant reader, you have probably noticed I've not really managed to put up my Profile of the Week for a couple of weeks now. To be completely honest with you, writing those posts was so easy I could have written a blog for months solely made up of these damn fool profiles, but my source, my muse if you will, sometimes makes me feel a bit grubby and I have to go away for a bit and have a good wash.

The site, a free international site which caters for most people who would label themselves "kinky", attracts all sorts of people - People interested in D/s relationships, spankers and spankees, rubber and latex fetishists, sissies, 'animal trainers', sadists, masochists, rape fantasists, age play fantasists, nylon enthusiasts, gay, straight, curious, couples, financial dominants & money slaves, cross dressers and wankers. Lots, and lots of wankers - and I mean that in the most positive and affectionate definition of the word.
And realistically, you can usually avoid all the things that you don't want to look at by using a fairly basic filter system - I don't really care too much to meet submissive men, or younger men or men over the age of 70 thanks. But these filters will never do two basic things - they will never filter out someone who chooses to lie about themselves and their sexual identity, (Alice wrote a very interesting post on this recently) and they will never filter out the things that really squick you; my profile says that cross-dressing is a hard limit, but I can't stop men sending me pics of themselves in poorly fitting ladies lingerie.

I also can't stop receiving messages like this:
(from the highly promising sounding bigcock10ins)
"Mind if I ask, does vanila partner mean  hucow? love it if it is as your local"

Never mind for a minute the problematic spelling and grammar. It took me a few minutes to make the link between my brief profile stating I had a non-BDSM partner, and hucow*. Oh, you don't know what hucow is? Hucow is a term for a woman who accepts sexual objectification by means of large tits and constant lactation. Strictly. Unfortunately, there is a little more to it than that though, there is something of the farmyard about this kink and often hucows will find their stablemates (sorry) with hupigs..No, I don't want to talk about it any longer either, let's go and wash our hands.

Cute piggy


Is your kink, no matter what I think about it, any of my concern?  I'm sure (I know) there are people that consider what seems to me to be fairly harmless kinks to be "sick" and "wrong" and harmful and exploitative and yucky. I hope now they've read their "50 shades" or whatever, or seen their girlfriend or daughter or the nice lady next door reading it, they might have second thoughts [this does not seem to work its magic on a certain breed of feminist, but hey-ho]. But the thing is, the difference is, when I contact a man on a dating site, whether it be kinky or vanilla, I don't deliberately confront him with mental images that might be.. squicky. Maybe this means I dislike it because I consider messages like that to be unmannerly? No. Honestly, I dislike it because it makes me feel a bit grim inside. And I can't decide if I feel like that is right, or wrong. And so I can't decide whether I think that people who judge kinks that I feel to be quite normal are right or wrong either.
There probably is no answer to that question. People are people, after all. Not COWS; PEOPLE!

*ice cream, surely.

Tuesday, 24 July 2012

Fucking Sexy Bitch

Thwack
"OW!"
Thwack.. thwack
"Owww.. ow..Ooooh .. you f..."
Thwack
Thwack
"Owwwwww!"
Thwack

I'm lying naked and face down on Good Kisser's bed, hands and feet restrained - absolutely immobile and suffering a hard spanking. I say suffering but I love to be spanked. I love it. This spanking, given good naturedly for a crime I do not understand, or give any thought to; in my foggy brain seems like a perfectly gratifying aspect of an otherwise totally rewarding and satisfying summer Sunday afternoon. Good Kisser has a knack for hitting the same spot over and over and I can feel tears beginning to prick at the corner of my eyes, but it seems that no sooner has the spanking started, that it stopped and he is rubbing my stinging backside and I am in his arms again, and we are kissing, and his hand is between my thighs again.. and.
I don't really know how many times I came in the short time we spent together that afternoon, but I think probably more times in total than in the months of Jan, Feb and March combined. I realise this clearly has more to do with the paucity of my sexual experiences this winter but still. He commented at one point that I seemed 'half drugged' and that's exactly how I felt. I remember, for instance, the dress coming off - but not the underwear, and there were times that my legs seemed separate from my body. I remember looking down the bed, and to my complete surprise, finding him with his head between my legs making me come with his mouth*. 

I remember theorising in a recent post that maybe I expected more out of sex than it deserved, that maybe I held up some romantic notion in my mind of it than it really warranted. As I found with W, getting naked with someone else can be disappointing and I can think of other times where there has been chemistry, and no small degree of technical ability but no mindblowing, headspinning orgasms. Sometimes none at all. I don't know why, but I suspect that with Good Kisser, the nature of our relationship (ie a relationship of no burden of expectation or duty on either part, except perhaps that we try and keep our appointments, and shower ahead of time) and the fact that he is so demonstrative about his desire for me, which makes me feel like the sexiest woman on earth, actually, are at the root of this recent run of erotic luck.
Whatever it is, actually, I don't care a great deal. Such matters are probably only worth analysis when they don't work, rather than when they do. All I really think, is that I should go and work on my stamina a little bit.


*It has crossed my mind, reader, that you may have concerns that I really was drugged. Unfortunately, the only drink he poured for me the whole time I was there was kicked over all over the bedside table during a particularly rigorous spell of intimacy, so even if he had had a whole host of hypnotic drugs in line for me, they would have been wasted.

Saturday, 14 July 2012

Pain is.. pain?

There's not been much to write about here over the past couple of weeks.  A dearth of material. I could have written many posts about how I wasn't getting any, that's for sure, but after weeks of consecutive daily posting about the lack of sexual interest in my life, who would come back? Not me.

Anyway, I didn't 'get any' today. I did however, spend a couple of hours in bed with 'good kisser'. We didn't have sex because I, after a whole week of infected bladder and antibiotics that made me feel like I had been steamrollered, got the curse. Again. As an aside, I have just finished 5 years of the mirena coil, which is an IUS intended to stop the monthly nuisance - it worked very well..all that time that I wasn't having sex. My GP mentioned that I might notice an increase in the nuisance for a while, when she couldn't persuade me to have a replacement fitted. And she was bloody right. And now I'm trying to have sex and I keep being limited by this. How's that for bitter irony?
So, I kept my pants on. I have to say though, it was the best pants on fun I've had in a looong time. Mr 'good kisser' is a very sexy man indeed. We have a great deal of chemistry, and when I am with him, moments slip seamlessly into hours. I don't know where the time goes when I am with him.

But you know, he's..it's.. he's the first man that's made me cry in bed for a very long time. Even with my most sadistic lover in the past, in the foulest of tempers, my hair has never been pulled so hard, for so long. Pulled so hard at the roots in either direction that he has immobilised my head and all I can do is open my mouth to cry out. He bit my tits until I almost saw stars, and 6 hours later, it's still uncomfortable to wear a bra. I am a masochist, I have no doubt that pain gets me off. But wow, I've been tested. On reflection, I think I'm complaining because it isn't the pain I 'like', it isn't the pain of implement hitting ass, for example, which is pain I'd choose.
Do I want it to stop, is the question. He would stop, if I wanted, I know it. I don't think he wants to torture me - and spends the vast majority of time we have together focusing on my pleasure. Further, as a sexually submissive woman, when he pins me down so I can't escape and does what he wants to me, I love it. I don't want it to stop, I don't think. I'll still love it in the morning when I have bruised nipples that still hurt, or, like last time, I have little finger shaped bruises on my upper arms as souvenirs of those delicious moments where I've tried (not hard) and failed to escape from his clutches.
I know I can't wait to be with him again, and you never know, next time I might even get nekkid. And maybe I'll take some ibuprofen.


Thursday, 12 July 2012

53 Questions about sex

I copied these questions from Ponyboy's blog, because frankly, its either do this or the housework. And  who doesn't love a quiz?

1. Have you ever had intercourse?  Yes 
2. Oral Sex: Given or received an orgasm  Yes, both. I prefer to receive orgasms, if we're talking about oral, but up until relatively recently I couldn't really.. acheive. If there are any volunteers to help me further practice then answers on the back of a postcard to the usual address..
3. Licked an ass?  Yes (another girl. I'm not really gonna lick a man's ass. y'all filthy)
4. Had your ass licked?  Yes
5. Stuck your tongue in their ass?  Yes (see 3)
6. Swallowed Cum?  Yes. Didn't taste like chocolate mousse though. (sadface)
7. Practiced Bondage or BDSM ? Yes
8. Had anal sex? Yes
9. Had an orgasm from anal sex? No. But I've had an orgasm whilst having anal sex. I'm sure that counts
10. Ever squirted or made someone squirt? No. Can't say I'm that worried.
11. Had sex with someone of the same sex?   Yes
12. Did a threesome? Yes, and hopefully not for the last time. FMF and MMF.
13. Did a foursome?  Yes
14. Been in an Orgy ? So an orgy is more than 4? No, and I suspect it might feel like hard work
15. Been in a gangbang?  No
16. Had sex in public?  Yes, I've had sex in a few different places.
17. Snowballed (swapping cum) with someone?  Ew, no. NO. I'll swallow it if I have to, but it's not hanging round in my mouth that long.
18. Had your toes licked or sucked? Yes. Can't say I'd queue for it though.
19. Licked or sucked someone’s toes? No. I'd do a girl who got pedicures, but otherwise no (see 3)
20. Had sex with more than one person (one on one only) in a day? Not full sex no.
21. Had sex with more than one person (one on one only) in a week? Yes.
22. Had cyber sex or phone sex? Phone sex, yes (and quite fulfillingly, tyvm) but not cybersex. That would feel wrong
23. Reached an orgasm? Yes
24. Watched porn?  Yes. I don't dislike porn, but not much of it turns me on.
25. Bought a dirty magazine?   No
26. Posted nude pictures of yourself on the net? No!
27. Let someone video tape you having sex? Yes, and strangely I bumped into that person about a month ago after about ...13 years? I was firm and slim back then, think it would gross me out to see myself on tape now
28. Had sex without protection? Yes. With Mr G. Outside of that though, I'm just not going to do it.
29. Had someone give you a cum facial or gave someone a cum facial? Yes. Revolting by the way. Hopefully my face doesn't betray my feelings of utter...revulsion, but I bet it does.
30. Have you participated in any type of golden showers? No. Although I've been with a couple of men that have tried pretty hard to persuade me.
31. Have you let anyone or have you shit on anyone? No. Please.
32. Had sex with a friend’s significant other?  No
33. Ever did one of your significant others friends or relative?  No
34. Have you ever cheated on your significant other?  Yes
35. Made someone pass out from sex? No. How? HOW?!
36. Tasted your own cum?  Yes
37. Masturbated?  Yes. Jeez, come on.
38. Let someone watch you? Yes. Hawt.
39. Ever showed yourself naked on cam?  No
40. Had sex while on your period or while someone was on their period?  I probably have done in the past, but I really hate it. Nasty, messy, painful, yuck. The sad irony of this is when I'm on my period my hormones are *really* trying to get me to have sex.
41. Been ate or eaten someone? No. I can't imagine many are going to say yes to this?
42. Had sex with someone you knew less than an hour? No, but I have been bloody tempted.
43. Had sex in a vehicle? Yes
44. Been caught having sex? No
45. Paid for sex? No. Jeez, can you imagine that? I'd want a money back guarantee.
46. Used toys during sex? Yes. I'm thinking about getting something I can keep in my handbag, such do I love toys in bed.
47. Used food? Yes. Sex in the kitchen can be a nice thing. Avoid the sticky, though.
48. Like pain from a little to extreme during sex? Yes. I like pain a lot, although I prefer a bit of a build up at the moment - I think I've lost my tolerance a bit.
49. Ever been dominated in bed? Yes. I find it hard to get off if I don't percieve the man is Dominant in his behaviour.
50. Ever had a wet dream?  Do girls have wet dreams? I have sex dreams all the time. Woke up to having a sex dream about another blogger today. Awkward.
51. Like to have your ass slapped during sex?  Yes. Love it.
52. Like having your nipples licked, sucked, or bitten?  Yes, although if it's too gentle it feels a bit ..weird.
53. Had sex with someone you didn’t know their name?  No.


Monday, 9 July 2012

Profile of the week...

Ah, I nearly never made it this week. I don't know whats wrong at the moment, but this blog and I are barely on speakers. Still, I guess as long as the interwebz goes on, there will be horrible profiles on free dating sites for me to show you. As inevitable as sunrise.

Anyway, as no-one seems to be clamouring for the profile that I mentioned last week that will just blow you away, I'll save it for when I feel my corner needs a bit of a treat. In the meantime, however, I know you'll thank me for this gem. I know there are some single ladies remaining out there!

Still sick, you say?


_______________________________ 6/9/2011 7:21:13 AM: i think this site is 90%bs 8 %moeny grower 2% real _______________________________ 9/24/2010 11:30:30 PM: i am back now so hope to play soon 
look out for  (redacted) shes a lining bitch a lot      other  fake  on nere to                                                  i think every dam person on here is a  ffff fakeh !!!!!!!!!  look if your out of Ohio and more than 2 states away stat  may me  if your out of the usa  not wast my time i will not send u a ticket   stone will be missed!!!!!!!!
! still  sick!!!!!  but recovering 
 mostly Dom here but i love to be ,Dom my self some times

to all reply  yes i like to be Dom some x but mostly Dom 
 

Saturday, 7 July 2012

Not Getting Laid - ur doin it rite

Well, Paris was great. It was hot and it was tiring, and I am officially skint, but we had a nice time. I do feel like I need a proper holiday that just involves lying by the pool and drinking cocktails now, but that may just be a bit out of reach this summer, so I'm concentrating on being grateful for what I've had. A bit of time away from my normal life helped me get a bit of perspective on the stuff that's been bothering me, so, whatever the cost, I suppose it was worthwhile.

Otherwise, a fair to middling week. A couple of lunches with friends, plenty of staring out of the window and praying (to whom?) for the rain to stop. My results came through for my first undergraduate year. Seems I am an exactly average 2:1 student. Happy enough with that. All well and good, as weeks go.

But no fucking. Not a sniff. No sweaty bodies wrapped around eachother, no head buried in pillow, no panting and groaning, no frantic undressing, no hot breath in the ear, no orgasms.
Even after spending a couple of hours in the company of a man who makes me weak at the knees when he kisses me (alright, there was kissing) I couldn't do it due to a  combination of not being able to get away at the right time and a really inconvenient surprise(!) bladder infection. Which made me cry. You know, when I look back at some of my encounters over the past couple of months, some of which not described yet on this blog, I am appalled to the degree that my body has worked against me in terms of getting it on. There is nothing you can do it seems, about biology no matter how willing you are.Still, in retrospect, I am happy and grateful that I have found someone who makes me weak at the knees when he kisses me. I didn't have that, not so long ago. It is apparently national kissing day today and I am a bit tempted to ask of he wants to meet up for a snog.

As a brief aside, I have never read 50 Shades of Grey, because I hear it is badly written, and for me life is a little too short for a bad book. Especially when it is a bad book about something that other people supposedly find shocking, and you just feel like what is being described is a bit... cliched. Never mind, here is a very good article about it, for my non-guardian reading pals.

Monday, 2 July 2012

Profile of the week..

I am not really here. I'm probably in some impossibly glamourous Parisian pavement cafe in the shade of some beautiful historic building with the sun on my face* while you read this. How is your day going by the way?

This profile is probably another one where it would help to post the photograph of the profile owner next to the wording, in order to appreciate why I found this one so wrong. I can't bring myself to take the piss out of the non-anonymous though, so let me just paint you a picture of an aging, stringy scruffy guy with white hair. I'd like to think he really means it about all those 'must haves' but I reckon he would settle for 'pretty fucking average pussy' if you want the truth.

I'm not sure about this 'family female' sub/slave thing either. Isn't that a bit... hillbilly?


You have to have a pretty pussy and responsive nipples and a great mouth with the willingness and desire to serve at your best. And glasses are a plus !! I'm strict demanding and require total obedience at all times ! And mother/daughter/sisters etc.family female subs/slaves always get first priority ! If interested im at {redacted} at yahoo ! 

I do have another profile of the week to share, but I have a feeling it's so good.. that anything after posting it will be a true anti-climax. It is so objectionable, paranoid and unpleasant that I actually thought on first sight it might have been a spoof profile. It's not. It could be (whisper it) profile of the year, but I don't know. I'm worried there will be nothing to top it, evah. So I might post it next week.

*alternatively, I could be tired with achy feet, stuck in a long queue, with a whiny 7 year old, ready to cry at the idea of paying yet another £4 for a bottle of water/coffee/ice cream. Could go either way!
  

Friday, 29 June 2012

We'll always have Paris

I'm hardly in a blogging mood at the moment, with problems and annoyances either so bourgeois, petty and first world that I'm embarrassed to admit them here, or too big and painful to write down. Neither type are particularly sexy, especially not to me.

However, on the upside, I'm off to Paris for a few days which, even a misery like me can appreciate is a pretty nice thing. I shall put on 5lbs purely in croissant pastry and white wine and come back a happier, if slightly rounder, girl. I'm sure that, knowing Paris as I do, I will also be substantially poorer. Diet and thrift can wait until Tuesday though, right?


Monday, 25 June 2012

Profile of the week..

That's right. The weekly post that writes itself. You know, sometimes I worry that I'm never going to see a profile in the week that I'm going to want to share with y'all. I always seem to though, don't I?
After my (mis)adventures in D/s this week, I have been looking at profiles with at least the intent of messaging a local charming, datable Dominant with his own teeth and no discernable mental health issues that we need to talk about in advance. Nothing doing so far but I wonder if this guy lives in your town... (don't all rush at once, girls)


Totally sick and perverted Master. Seeks stupid, brainless fuck-pig-whore-shit for total abuse. A slave is nothing more than disgusting pile of shit that shouldn't exist. Only limit is death

His only limit is death, right? Be pretty embarrassing if you went round and he wanted to start hacking your fingers off. What's the protocol there, I wonder!?
Sadly, I don't know any stupid, brainless fuck-pig-whore-shits. And don't get me started on someone seeking something that shouldn't exist, he's never going to be happy doing that! Besides, the idea just turns my brain inside out.