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Showing posts with label Kinky Stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kinky Stuff. Show all posts

Ten Things Anal Sluts Think Of While Getting Fucked in the Ass

Inspired by some writings I've recently seen online (sorry, they're on Fetlife so I can't link to them, but believe me, they are good), I decided to write my own:

Ten Things Anal Sluts Think Of While Getting Fucked in the Ass

1. Whoa! That lube is cold. Don't use too little! But don't use too much either! I don't want a mess on the sheets again.

2. How is it you like to do this to me, anyway? I mean, I know it's tight and warm in there, but still...THEY DON'T CALL IT THE POOP CHUTE FOR NOTHING. Doesn't this gross you out? Please don't let this gross you out.

3. Ok, some pressure...I can take it...ow. Ow ow OW. God I forgot again how much this hurts.

4. I can take it...the worst must be over now...OKAY I GUESS NOT OW OW OW.

5. Okay. Okay. Worst is definitely over. He's in. OH WAIT HE HELD BACK OH JESUS.

6. He's sliding now...this isn't so bad...I can handle this.

7. Mmm, those are some very nice colors floating by.

8. Oh God, this is really awesome, I mean this is fucking amazing, holy shit it HURTS but please don't STOP

9. Why can't I ever come this good with plain 'ole vaginal sex?

10. Okay, you can pull out now. Now, really, it's starting to hurt again. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DIDN'T COME YET


Results of the Anal Sex Poll

The question posed was thus:
Before anal sex, does the dick get lubed, or the asshole?
A whopping 75% of you voted "both".
Of those who picked one, the asshole got double the number of votes as the dick.
A handful of you voted "neither." To which I say…OW.

The reason why I asked is because Husband never lubes up his dick. I don't know why. Periodically over the years, I've asked him to, and he never does it. I think it has something to do with him not wanting to go to the trouble of rubbing his own dick when an available hole is right there, warm and inviting. But I might be wrong.

It definitely has something to do with the fact that lubing my ass can be a hit-or-miss thing, and in Husband's mind, this adds to the sadistic fun. Oftentimes, Husband's not too careful about it. He'll tip the bottle over my ass crack, let some lube slide out…and if it lands on my cringing sphincter, great! If not, I'm out of luck. He might be kind enough rub the lube around if he missed his target completely, but if the slippery stuff manages to get on one side of my ass, but not the other, Husband's mentality is usually something to the effect of Oh, well. This is gonna pinch her a little. 
Tee hee.

If he's feeling magnanimous, he'll spread the lube around the sphincter area…with his dick. This is also a hit-or-miss thing. Sometimes it feels like he's spreading the goop all over my butt cheeks, everywhere but on the asshole itself. Sometimes he'll tease me with it, rubbing his dick along my crack until it feels like the lube is starting to dry, and I'm filling up with fear.
More often times he's just assuming his pumping will managed to smear the lube everywhere it needs to go—eventually, anyway—and there's no reason to hold back.
Yes, the lube gets everywhere it needs to go…eventually…usually around the time I'm trying to crawl away from him to escape the agony and he's pinning me down and ramming into me and the tears are pooling in my eyes and I'm crying and he's pulling the hair away from my face so he can see my expression of torment as he laughs in my ear.
But he knows I enjoy the pain. More importantly, he enjoys my pain—and my subjugation.
That is why he does it.

And yes, sometimes he'll use his fingers in me, sometimes he'll use a butt plug first, sometimes the anal vibrator comes out…and in those cases, I get lubed up nice and deep before his dick comes anywhere near me. But I never know when that's going to happen. I never know what kind of foreplay he has planned in his head unless he tells me, which is not very often.
And the thing is, he's not using his fingers or plug or toy to help get me lubed and relaxed. He's using them because it's fun and he feels like it.
If he doesn't feel like it? Oh well. This is gonna pinch a little. Suck it up, anal slut.

I think I might bring this poll to his attention. Look! I'll say. Most people lube both! Not just the asshole! You can lube your dick you know! 
Then again, he may just choose to become one of those people who uses no lube at all.
OW. And OH. And…I'm totally getting turned on right now.

Folsom Street Fair 2013

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Merry Christmas, everyone!

Here's some Christmas porn to make you smile. My gift to you. :)





A Tale of Safewords

A short story, meant to be funny, inspired by last weekend's SoBad meeting. Because writing this beat doing laundry.
Once upon a time there lived an incredibly kinky, horny, and lecherous Dom. This Dom lived with his submissive, named SubMiss, and his slave, named Slave. The three of them together made up the House of MasterDom. Unfortunately, this Dom was not very smart; but that was okay, because neither were his two women.
One day, MasterDom called his submissive and his slave downstairs to the dungeon.

“SubMiss!” MasterDom called. “Slave! Come down here, RIGHT NOW, please!”
Being the ever-obedient sub and slave they were, the two women rushed down to the dungeon to find their Lord and Master, MasterDom, waiting for them in the middle of the room.
Unfortunately, Slave had been in the process of cleaning out the litter box of their cat, Pussy, when she had heard her Master’s call, and so she was still wearing a pair of long yellow rubber gloves. MasterDom frowned when he saw Slave kneeling before him wearing the gloves.
“You know you are not supposed to enter the dungeon wearing any clothes, Slave,” he said.
“I’m sorry, MasterDom,” Slave said. “But you called, and I didn’t want to take the time to remove the gloves first. Shall I do so now?”
“No,” MasterDom sighed. “There is no place to put them here. You might as well just leave them on.”
“Yes, MasterDom.”
“Now then, “ MasterDom said, getting down to business and addressing both women, “I have called you in here because my new flogger has finally arrived from SirLordMasterUberDom.com, and I would like to try it out. SubMiss, since Slave is stuck wearing the rubber gloves, I guess you’ll have to be my first test subject.”
“Yes, MasterDom,” Sub replied, her eyes growing wide. “Shall I stand against the St. Andrew’s Cross?”
“What a marvelous idea! I mean, yes, SubMiss, go stand against the Cross.”

SubMiss went to stand against the Cross, and MasterDom buckled her into the restraints. But before MasterDom could begin flogging her with his brand new flogger, Slave stopped him.

“MasterDom,” she said, “Allow me to remind you, in my most humble supplication, that we need to agree on a new safeword. Our last one did not work so well.”
“Oh, yes,” MasterDom said, slapping the flogger against his thigh. “Harder did not really work as a safeword, did it? Neither did Owie, now that I think of it. Okay, we must all agree on a new safeword, and this time, let’s make it a good one.”
“It must be something we wouldn’t normally say in conversation, or during a scene,” Slave said. “Something that stands out.”
“This is very true,” MasterDom agreed. “Do you have any ideas, Slave?”
“How about ‘copacetic’?” Slave offered.
“Copacetic? What does that mean?”
“It means satisfactory,” she told him.
“Its sounds like the name of a medicine,” MasterDom replied, scowling.
“Well, it’s certainly not something you’d use during a BDSM scene, is it?” Slave said. “But if you don’t like it, how about ‘lugubrious’?”
“Lugubrious?” MasterDom repeated. “What does that mean?”
“It means dismal.”
“It sounds like something that comes out of your nose,” MasterDom said. “Think of something else.”
“Okay…how about effluvium?”
“Effluvium?” MasterDom cocked his brow. “Are you just making words up now, Slave?”
“No, MasterDom,” Slave shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that, no way. Effluvium means an unpleasant smell.”
“All these words you’re giving me are very strange,” MasterDom said. “Can’t you give me something more normal?”
“But you want it to be strange, MasterDom,” Slave reminded him. “You want it to be a word we wouldn’t normally use.”
“This is true,” MasterDom sighed. “Can you give me something more pleasant sounding? And more kinky?”
“How about hornswoggle?”
“Hornswoggle certainly sounds more kinky,” MasterDom had to agree. “It has the word horn in it. Any word with horn in it has to be kinky. What does it mean?”
“It means to deceive,” Slave replied.
MasterDom pursed his lips. “Give me another word,” he said. “Something with more of an erotic meaning.”
“Well then, how about concupiscent?” Slave replied. “It means ‘possessed of erotic desire.’ ”
“I like it,” MasterDom said. “That’s the one. SubMiss, did you hear what the safeword is?”
“Concupiscent,” Sub said, giggling against the Cross. “It sounds funny.”
“Be serious, now!” MasterDom yelled, raising the flogger. “There is no giggling allowed in a BDSM scene! BDSM IS SERIOUS BUSINESS!”
“Sorry, MasterDom,” Sub said, contrite. “I won’t do it again.”
“Good!” MasterDom said. “Now let’s begin. Are the restraints around your wrists okay?”
“They are copacetic,” Sub replied.
“Why, SubMiss,” MasterDom said, shocked. “Are you trying to safeword before we even begin the scene?”
“No MasterDom,” SubMiss said. “I’m saying the restraints are satisfactory. Our safeword is concupiscent, remember?”
“That’s right,” MasterDom said, remembering. “No giggling, SubMiss!”
“Sorry, MasterDom.”
“Okay then. If the restraints are good, we shall begin.”

MasterDom began to flog SubMiss against the cross. Soon, she was crying and howling, and MasterDom had a huge smile on his face.

“How does it feel, SubMiss?” He asked between hits.
“Lugubrious!” Sub shouted.
MasterDom stopped the flogger mid-swing and stepped back. “What did you have to safeword for?”
“Why MasterDom, I wasn’t trying to safeword,” SubMiss said, surprised. “You asked me how it felt, and I was trying to say dismal. This new flogger really hurts.”
“Oh,” MasterDom said. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, we shall now continue, SubMiss.”
“Yes, MasterDom.”
MasterDom began to flog SubMiss once more. As the flogging continued, the marks on SubMiss’s thighs and ass grew redder and redder.

“Oh, SubMiss, you look so beautiful,” MasterDom said in a hoarse voice. “Your bottom is so sexy.”

“Concupiscent,” Sub cried.
“That’s right, I’m feeling concupiscent, too,” MasterDom agreed, flogging her harder.
“Concupiscent! Concupiscent!”
“MasterDom, I think SubMiss is trying to safeword,” Slave remarked.
MasterDom lowered the flogger. “SubMiss, are you trying to safeword?”
“Yes, MasterDom!” Sub shouted. “Something in here smells really awful! I can’t take it anymore! What is that stench?”
“Effluvium,” Slave said.
MasterDom rounded on her. “Now why are you trying to safeword?” he yelled. “You’re not even the one getting flogged!”
“No, I mean, I think there’s a bad odor in the air,” Slave said. She sniffed her gloves and grimaced. “I think the smell is coming from my gloves.”
“Why would your gloves smell bad?” MasterDom asked.
“Because of the box.”
“Which box?”
“Pussy’s box.”
“Your pussy smells?” MasterDom asked, cringing. “Ew. You should have that looked into, Slave.”
“No, MasterDom, it’s from the cat’s litter box. I was cleaning it out with the gloves on before I came down here. “
“Ah, that makes more sense,” MasterDom said, relieved. “I have to agree, the smell is getting in the way of the scene. Perhaps we should stop for now, and continue this later.”
“Yes, MasterDom,” SubMiss said, slouching against the Cross. “Please.”
MasterDom uncuffed SubMiss from the St. Andrew’s Cross. “You did good under the circumstances, SubMiss,” he said. “I’m sure our next scene will be better.”
“Hornswoggle,” SubMiss replied.
“No need to safeword now, the scene is over,” MasterDom said in a comforting voice.
Submiss turned around. “MasterDom, may I make a humble suggestion? From now on, could we stick with ‘red’ as our safeword? It is much easier to remember.”
“Why SubMiss, what a marvelous idea,” MasterDom said. “I wonder why no one’s ever thought of it before. Red! It’s perfect. What an amazing submissive you are.”
“Thank you, MasterDom,” SubMiss said, smiling. The three of them returned upstairs, with Slave in the lead.

NEWS! NEWS! (Read: Some Major Self Promotion Going On)

Two things!

First of all: I was named in Rori's famed list of Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2013. Yes, I am pleased. Yes, I am grateful. Yes, I am horny…and I'd like to think, with this insane blog of mine, I make a few of you horny, too.

Second of all: My next book is coming out soon! Its title is Blood and Desire, Seduction and Murder: A Hotel Bentmoore Romance. I've added it to the list of my books, right at the top. It should be out in the next few weeks; I hope you like it.

That's all for now. I'm off to a kinky Winter Ball. My life is good.

Edited to add: I put in the link for Rori's list, because, duh, you want to see it! Also, there's a button on the right, if you want to get to it by clicking over that way. 

A Rose By Any Other Name

Have I told you guys I got a new bed and headboard? I don't think I did. Here is a photo.
The bed is King-sized. I have never owned a King-sized bed before.
It is magical. Now when Husband comes to bed at three o'clock in the morning, he doesn't wake me up. And when I get up at six, I don't wake him up. It's like a miracle invention with foam, coils, and pixie dust sprinkled inside.
But the best part isn't the bed at all, it's the new headboard. We picked this headboard because it looked way more kink-friendly than our old wooden flat one.
Boy, is it.
Husband has upped the ante ten-fold since we got this headboard. Part of me has no idea how such an innocuous piece (which is really just a piece of another piece) of furniture could have so much impact on our sex life; another part of me cannot understand why I didn't think of it before.
This headboard is perfect for cuffs, chain, rope, and often, for just wapping your hands around for hanging the fuck on. Husband has used those wrought iron bars for endurance tests ("Don't let go, whatever happens, don't you fucking let go"), positioning experiments ("Can your feet touch metal? No? Then your head can go lower down my dick"), and take-down scenes (you can use your imagination on this one).
He's having fun.
So am I.
The other thing I forgot to share with the masses is that I got a new toy at Folsom Fringe. It's about the size of a wooden spoon; strong, bendable, and more wicked than it lets on:
I don't even know what to call it, except maybe, The Breathless Flower. Flower, because it makes a beautiful flower design on flesh when it's hit hard enough; and breathless, because when it's hit that hard into my skin, I scream so high I'm rendered breathless.
The other night Husband was using this toy on my backside, and forcing me to stay up on my tiptoes as he cultivated his little garden across my rump. The kids were either not home or deep asleep, so he thought a little noise (of the screaming variety) wouldn't bother anyone.
"The design is so nice," he said. "Hey, don't put your feet down. Back on your toes."
"But it hurts!"
"No it doesn't."
"Yes it does!"
He swung the toy right into my backside, HARD. I started to howl and jump from one foot to the other.
"Did that hurt?" He asked.
"YES!"
"Good. Now you know the difference."
I couldn't help it; I started laughing. He was laughing, too.
"Now back on your toes," he said, still smiling. "I'm not done yet."
He wallpapered my ass with flowers and swirls. Then he made me stay still while he admired his work.
He still wouldn't let me put my feet down. "Stay on your toes, or I'll get the cane," he said. "Then you'll know 'hurt' a lot."
After a while, my feet hurt so bad, I was whimpering from the strain. Claiming to take pity on me, he allowed me to climb up on the bed on my hands and knees and grab onto the headboard.
Then he made me stay like that while he fucked my ass from behind.
A glorious time was had by all.

I would highly suggest you check out the people that make the toy I got over at Etsy. They're called Kink Nerd Toys.
 Oh, and after checking out the Etsy page, I see they call this toy the "Rose Crop."
I like my name Breathless Flower better. But hey...what does a name matter, when you have no voice anyway?

Battling Behavior

Well, dear readers, yesterday was an interesting night. It was the last night of winter break, the last night of Husband's vacation…and it was the anniversary of the night Husband and I met.

I knew Husband and I would be "getting down and dirty," but as far as I could tell, He had no distinctive plans. So I decided, when the time came, I would be behave differently from how I normally act: I would be obedient, I would be amicable, and I would give into his every order and suggestion quickly, without protest.
I would be utterly submissive.

Our "private time" together began.
He ordered me to pleasure him; I complied. He ordered me to pleasure myself; I complied.
A frown began to etch across his face. "What's up with you?" He asked.
"I'm trying to be good," I said. "I'm trying to behave."
He rolled me over and slapped my ass, hard, with his open palm; I knew within a few seconds I'd have the blush of his handprint outlined on my ass.
"What the hell was that for?" I screeched.
"You were being too complacent," he replied.

Of course, after that, all bets were off, and I tried to struggle as much as I could.
But I had two strikes against me: one, that Husband had already maneuvered me into easy spanking position; and two, that I am not a very strong woman on my best days.
Husband enjoyed my struggles, though. He laughed the entire time.
I laughed, too. Laughter during a scene (and sex) is, in my book, always a good thing.

I know some Doms and Masters out there prefer their subs to be docile, meek creatures, willing and eager to serve at all times.
Husband is not like that.
Thank God.

Folsom Fringe

So as I mentioned in my last post, this weekend I tried something new. Actually, a few things new. I
1. Attending my first kinky conference
2. Gave my self-publishing class to a room full of people
2. Vended my books

Number one rule about trying something new: it's all about the experience. I went into the weekend with a clear head and a list of hopes, but zero expectations.
IT WAS AWESOME.
Seriously, if you can attend Folsom Fringe next year, DOOOO EEET. It is an easy way to meet kinky people, take a ton of classes, learn a whole lot about things you never even knew existed, and PLAY.
Oh my god, people, the PLAY.
I had friends there who basically only left their hotel rooms to eat and meet up with new potential play partners. Once negotiations (and meals) were done, they were back in their rooms, having more fun.

The saturday night party was a huge ballroom of ongoing D/s, S/m, and kink. I got spanked, caned, punched (a first for me), wrestled to the ground, hogtied, and pussy chained. I got to scream, cry, struggle, flail, bite, kick, and punch back.
And the whole time, all around me, there were other scenes going on, with people laughing, crying, and coming. Countless play stations, chairs set up all around for those who wanted to watch, cleaning supplies, safety supplies....
All the while, around the corner in the social area, people sat in their dressed-up best, eating delicacies and socializing in hushed tones at intimate cafe tables.
It was lovely. Hedonism at its best.

I signed a lot of books. Sold out, in fact. Of course, I had to do a lot of begging to sell those books. The other vendors found me quite entertaining. But then, begging comes natural to me, so what can I say?

I was told my class was good. If you want to see much of what I taught, you can take a look at the menu bar on the blog and click on "how to self publish."

Of course, one of the biggest draws of Folsom Fringe is the ride to and from Folsom Street Fair. But the  thing is, since you've been partying and playing the whole weekend already, Folsom Fair becomes one aspect of the weekend, not the whole thing. For many, it's not even the grand finale. I know for me, the saturday night party was the highlight of the conference, and the weekend.

I came home with bruises on my shoulders, back, and breasts, rug burn on my knees and ass, a hoarse throat, and a sense of incredible accomplishment.

That last one? That was the best souvenir of all.

 
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