Opposites Attract (or should you fuck a tory?)

MoteOo (pixabay.com)

In some ways that is true about us. Not in terms of kink, we seem to be aligned there. But upbringing, education and politics. There are some huge differences. This conversation with GOTN yesterday has led me here to this post. But actually I’ve thought about writing it for some time. That’s because a lot of fellow sex bloggers approach their lives from a similar liberal world view. One that I also possess. But I often keep quiet because Master usually has some kind of opposite view. People say, for example they would never fuck a Tory or someone who voted for Brexit. But actually it is possible to have sex and cohabit with someone who is and did those things. I wonder if I should have included a content warning on this post?

Roots

I come from a socialist supporting family, though both my brothers have moved away from that philosophy. My maternal ancestors were mining families from the North East of England. My dad was an electrician and I became a nurse through an apprenticeship type training. Since then I’ve gained 2 degrees and been a health service manager but I believe in socialist values and I’d also prefer we remained part of the EU. The original reason for this was a selfish one. I have a home in France and don’t want complications. But as time has gone on I haven’t been able to work out what will be better when the UK leave.

He went to a private school, on a scholarship and his father was a banker. Master is Oxford educated and was an accountant. He votes Conservative and believes in Brexit. Or did when he voted for it. He doesn’t take anything at face value and reads vociferously. When he voted for Brexit it was because he believes that the EU is corrupt and badly run. That view hasn’t changed, but the complete political mess that ensued after the vote created more common ground than we expected.

Arguments

I was never someone who would finish with someone because of their political beliefs. Unless they wanted to make me change mine, and that clearly hasn’t happened. We certainly don’t discuss politics in bed or in the practice of our BDSM art form. But that isn’t to say we haven’t discussed the two thorny issues of crap tory policies making the country less pleasant to live in and Brexit. We have also had our fair share of arguments, as you might expect.

My husband found it difficult to establish an opinion much less express one. He tended to regurgitate mine. So, actually having someone to argue the state of the country with is a good thing. I’ve also become less volatile in my reactions over the years, it must be age.

But we do argue. Not often and to be honest I struggle to maintain my side to the bitter end (to my own frustration). The trouble is Master often has much more knowledge on a topic than I do. Unless it is about health and health politics and then I can hold my ground. What’s more I tend to lose interest or wrap myself up in knots. His debating skills are just better than mine. Then there is the issue that I’ll never change his mind just like he won’t mine. So, what’s the point.

As I mentioned above though it has been the politicians of the UK and indeed world that have helped us along. There has been no doubt this country has been badly run for the last few years. There is also little doubt that Jeremy Corbyn was never going to be accepted as a prospective prime minister. Even though he has been a better leader than I’d imagined he would be. Brexit has been a shambles and in all likely hood will remain so. We therefore have agreement even if we come at it from opposite views.

Drink

My only caveat is that we must never have political discussions in a pub or even at home while drinking. Over the years that has caused some momentous rows, usually involving me getting so angry that I storm off somewhere. Plus, I’m less articulate when drunk and he tends to forget what he said by morning. So it’s a case of don’t go there. The only upside is that it usually involves some very hot make up sex. But to be honest it would be better to just have the sex and leave out the argument and hangover.

My advice

If you find yourself romantically linked with someone of an apposing political view don’t run away, it might be fine. If you fancy them like crazy and you find that they don’t want to talk about how wonderful Boris is while in bed. Also check they are capable of behaving themselves in public. That they won’t lecture your friends and family and keep their apposing views to more private encounters.

So, if you fancy a tory, don’t be frightened to snog them, or even have sex with them. They might just turn out to be the love of your life.

Summer's on the horizon

It’s mid January. The month that often feels like it will never end. Here in the southern half of the Uk we have at least had a sunny and day today. We’ve had far few days this winter when we could see the sun and the sky. So, I’m already looking forward to summer and what we might do and where we might go.

This photo was taken in France on our holiday last year. Not the sunniest of days but equally not wet and not cold. A day when we climbed a tower and since there weren’t many people around photo opportunities could be taken. These are the kind of days I look forward to. However cold and dark your world is right now, summer is on the horizon. Unless you are in the southern hemisphere of course, then the reverse is true. Happy Saturday / Sunday xx

To find out who else is participating in Sinful Sunday click on the lips below.

Content warnings

Photo by Tyler B on Unsplash

Content Warning: Cancer – A discussion about whether blog posts mentioning my breast cancer diagnosis should contain content warnings.

Recently I’ve been a bit irritated by the hashtags a friend of mine uses every day on her instagram posts. These in turn a reposted on facebook and if you subscribe, to her YouTube account. This friend follows a pretty extreme diet, which she believes has helped her remission from stage 4 cancer. The first 3 or 4 hashtags have the word cancer in them. She looks fantastic and whether the diet is responsible or not, I am of course happy that she is so well. I don’t want to be the one to ask her to move the cancer related hashtags down the list (there’s usually about 20), but I do feel somewhat triggered. This got me thinking about content warnings on my blog.

Supporting evidence for content warnings

The Sex Bloggers for Mental Health site has this week reiterated the importance of using content warnings for posts where readers may find difficult to read or traumatic. Posts which could trigger trauma or PTSD. One of the subjects mentioned is cancer. The post there was originally written and posted on Melody’s blog by SwirlingFire. Indeed I only read that this week and have commented.

So, my question to myself and others if you care to respond is: Should I put content warnings on my posts about cancer? Also, should I do this retrospectively with what is already posted. Lets face it I have been very open and honest about my breast cancer diagnosis and treatment. Plus the body image issues it presents me with.

What’s more, this week a post was retweeted (my old post revived widget posts directly to twitter) and a fellow blogger didn’t realise it was an old post. This made me wonder if I should go back through old posts and label them so that it’s clear that they are old. Or else should I actually remove them from the posts that are revived?

Up until now I’ve never put a content warning on anything

I’ve always been of the opinion that when people read my blog they know what they are getting. I make it clear that I am a slave and have a master. Also that we participate in BDSM activities. I try to be careful about consent issues and don’t really write about non consent. Even though our relationship is based on power exchange / CNC. But perhaps I need to be more careful there too.

It’s easy to be blasé about this issue. Until it happens to you and I guess that is exactly what has happened. Thoughts welcome please.

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Elust #126

Thank you Cara for choosing my post An advent diary as one of your picks for this month’s Elust!

Elust 126 Header

Photo courtesy of May More of Sex Matters

Welcome to Elust 126

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #125? Start with the rules, come back January 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

2020, the year I stop masturbating.

I Am Fat: On Fat Acceptance and Fat Shaming

Colour Match

 

~ Featured Post by our Guest Editor(Cara’s Picks) ~

An advent diary

Splosh!

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

From ‘Innocent’ Girl to Obedient Slave
The Trail
How to have the worst sex ever (if you’re me)
I think I have sex dreams
Moving On When You Can’t Stop Holding On
Bucket, Fuck and Christmas Lists

Blogging

Evolution of Sweetgirl’s Blog

Books and Movies

Castle: The Celluloid Dungeon

Erotic Non-Fiction

Locked For Christmas 2019
I Had Sex in My Teachers Bed
Submissive Romance
Oasis

Erotic Fiction

Naughty Elf
After the Convention
List in a Bucket ~ Looking Back
Present Number 3
A Naughty Christmas Pudding
A Christmas Offering-A fairy Tale
Christmas Cracker [Part 2]
A Dream So Real

Poetry

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Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Femdom for bushfire relief

Body Talk and Sexual Health

Whither Joy

Elust 2020 Logo

Home

14th July Fireworks from my balcony in France

Concepts of home have become more difficult for me to articulate over recent years. What does home really mean to me? Is home a place, a person, a state of mind? Unusually, I read the Food for Thought posts already posted before writing this. Now I’m not sure if I’m clearer or if the waters are more muddy. Let’s see.

Childhood

We moved to the house I would consider my childhood home when I was around 5. I have a few memories of the first place, but they may just be from photos I’ve seen. Home was my parents and brothers. My grandparents and cousins visiting. It was family Christmas’ and my room.

As a teenager I got my dad to paint it purple. I had my own little portable cassette deck, my books and other special possessions. It’s the place I did my homework and wrote. Once I got a boyfriend it’s a place I took him, though my mum was forever calling me downstairs!

I got married from that home (though I had moved out 6 months before) and then my parents moved to a new house. I felt at home in their new place, but it wasn’t my home.

Our homes

Hubby and I also owned two houses during the course of our marriage. Our first was special because I’d never lived anywhere that afforded real privacy. By that, I mean that parents and brothers could walk in at home and the home warden at my nurses accommodation. Here only we had a key, everyone else had to knock. That made it home. Then the fact we decorated and chose furniture and furnishings. Finally because it was just us. It was a place that we conceived our son and brought him home to. Later I discovered things hadn’t been as I imagined, because his infidelity started at around that time.

When my son was just 3 months old we moved. I wanted somewhere we could bring up a family, a bigger home and better neighbourhood. The new place was fine to begin with. We decorated, but often struggled to make it feel right (for me that is). However it was my son’s home and over time it became mine too. A place of sanctity, somewhere to hide when things were difficult.

At the end, when my ex had all but gone, it felt like the home it had never been. I spent days and nights there alone and became familiar with every nook and cranny. But when it came time to leave, I knew it was right.

My ex still lives there. I’ve been back and it feels no more like home than any other house in that street. That’s not because they have decorated and have new furniture. I’ve felt that way since I loaded my car with my remaining things and closed the door on that part of my life.

Looking back, I am still not sure that home was ever with my ex. But having my son there made it feel that it was at the time.

Now

We live in Master’s house. To begin with it was very weird, but gradually it has become home. Partly because my possessions have found their place and I have made changes to how things are. Also because we have started to decorate and make plans about how things will be. But this is a home because we are here together. I have a feeling about the concept of home that I didn’t have before.

There is one other place I call home. It’s a small apartment in France that I own (well jointly own with the ex). But it is my bolt hole. It’s the place I went to escape the pain and sadness when my life seemed to be falling apart. I’ve laughed, cried, got drunk and had amazing sex there. It is the place I’d run to if things went tits up here with Master. But it is also the place we go to and gradually it has become something of home to him too. Our place, our home.

Balancing our needs

In her introduction for this week’s Sex Bloggers for Mental Health, Catherine links to my post from last week about priorities. As she highlights, I wrote about the need to balance my and our needs with those of others. For this week’s prompt Catherine asks: but how?

For me, the realisation that a rebalance is required, comes after some kind of crisis. It may just be a moment of stress or some kind of over dramatic meltdown (oh yes, I can be a drama queen).

We are lucky. Our lives don’t any longer revolve around the needs of others. Just of ourselves. We don’t have dependents living with us, nor do we have parents or children living close. But there in lies the slight problem. On one hand we don’t have anyone turning up unexpectedly, but on the other hand, we do need to plan. We can live our own lives spontaneously but interaction with others needs planning. And sometimes we either get the planning wrong, get let down or else have to drop everything for the needs of others. This is kind of what happened at Christmas. My careful planning went wrong, because stuff outside of our control happened and then stress occurred.

Many of us try to control everything around us much too much. I and we are no exception to that. It is in my nature to try to please everyone and by doing so, I end up making myself unhappy. Master needs time of solitude and actually I need that alone time too. But both of us also need to engage with others. He claims he doesn’t; but then suggests going to a munch because he wants to be sociable. When I say we are going to spend an evening with my son or brother he pulls a face, but then enjoys it. Certainly before he met me Master spent far too much time alone and admits now that was not good for him. He claims he dislikes people, but I don’t think he really does, but he definitely needs not to be with others all the time.

That may reflect our different personalities. Me, the extrovert who likes to be with people and he the introvert who lives in his own mind much of the time. But, that’s too simplistic. I find meeting new people difficult. I don’t like noisy places as I can’t shut off from people’s conversations. It’s often he who suggests we go out to meet people and I who would rather stay home.

We both have elderly parents, and the possibility of a call is always there. I know that I will be required at some point to go and help out. My mother is frail and prone to falls. But while she is well and mobile I will keep to my fortnightly visits and support my brother who lives nearby as best I can.

My own brush with ill health and the desire to live my best life right now dictates how I makes sure there is balance. That I do the things I want and need. For example that I take exercise, even if Master isn’t joining me. That we go to new places and see what the world has to offer us. I am lucky to have retired from full time work at such a young age, but I know how easily the freedoms I am afforded could be snatched away. So, with that in mind we put ourselves first. But try to remain mindful of those that surround us.

A bit of a show off

Yep, that’s me. I was that child eager to strut her stuff on stage or to take part in fancy dress competitions. I was that live wire, loud, trying to be centre of attention. Precocious the adult me would have called the younger Julie. I’m an extrovert and I’ll be honest I am a show off and I’m not frightened to flaunt any talents I have. At one time that might have been my long legs and my boobs. I’ve never had an hour glass figure instead I’m more pear shaped. But over all I haven’t let it stop me from wearing what I want.

I guess that’s why I immersed myself so thoroughly into posting pictures on my blog. Because, although I tend to dress for the occasion at work or socially I really love to show off my body. And, over the past 8 years I’ve been lucky enough to be with men who appreciate it.

For S, it was stockings, suspenders and heels. With Master it’s me naked. Though he has a certain appreciation for me in leather fettish gear. I guess that I’ve got out of the habit of wearing it, what with one thing and another. So, last weekend’s trip to a fetish club was a great opportunity to strut my stuff. We don’t have any photos since photography in the club is (for obvious reasons) not allowed. But we certainly should take some for February Photofest.

Lingerie is often something hidden beneath clothes, or not worn (that would be Master’s preference. I tend to wear knickers with jeans, but not leggings and in winter. I do love the opportunity that summer offers. At the moment I always wear a bra, but hope that in the fullness of time that won’t be necessary again. But for now, I have a new found desire to buy matching lingerie and wear it. Last week I showed off my new set and don’t have anything else to show. But this is the 52nd week of Lingerie is for Everyone and so I feel I must join in. My show off, flaunt it self demands it.

So, I give you a photo taken for February Photofest 2017. This is one of my favourite sets and while I have thrown out some of the lingerie I doubt I’ll wear again, I very much would like to be seen in this set again. When I manage it, you’ll be the first to know.

Me wearing beautiful red lingerie. There is beading and lace on both bra and pants.

Pain, marks and a new club

I am kneeling on the bed my ankles in a spreader bar. There is a clamp attached to my labia. My wrists are cuffed.

The Tell Me About prompt this week is pain and for obvious reasons that fits well with the Kink of the week on which is marks. I always live in hope that when we go out to a play event that I’ll come back with some marks. Sadly, that really never happens. It’s a shame, because yesterday we went to an event at a new (to us) club. I was able to appreciate some pain, but have no marks to show. So, here is my take on all three.

Pain

I’m not a fan of pain in the general run of real life. I hurt my knee before Christmas (fell over while dancing!) and it is still giving me pain. In that fall I sustained a bruise on my arm which is only just fading. But impact play is different, just without the bruises. This pain, has been distressing at times and has made sleep difficult, it is nothing like being beaten with a flogger.

Bent over the bed or a bench, my bottom bare, I’m ready to receive some pain. Master has a bag full of implements and is always buying something new. I prefer a softer implement that gets stingy when used than something hard and stiff. Certain materials are definitely more painful than others and especially if they are made to resemble a plastic barbed wire. He has something like that and damn well uses it.

I prefer impact to my bottom these days, but there have been times when Master has used his toys on my pussy and even breasts. Though more gently. I’m not planning to have any play on my breast what so ever now. My relationship with my remaining breast has changed, but I’m sure we’ll explore that more over time.

In the main then, I like pain inflicted with a toy designed for the purpose. I often moan and complain but that doesn’t mean I don’t like it. I’ve never used my safeword during impact play and that is probably because he is a good judge of when to stop.

Marks

As mentioned above, I really don’t mark. Well I do, but not on my bottom during impact play. Yesterday’s session was a good half an hour long, but today nothing. I can feel where his toys have hit me, it’s a bit sore. But there are no marks.

But if I walk into a door or table or trip then I have a massive bruise. It doesn’t seem fair. The places I have marked through play are my inner thighs and breasts. But as I mentioned above I am not keen any more to have my remaining breast treated in a way so as it might mark. So I’ll just put up with pain and no marks.

A new club – atmosphere matters when playing

It’s no coincidence I’m writing this post today. I was hoping (since I always hope) that I’d be able to share some photos of my marked bottom. Sadly that isn’t the case. But I do feel the need to write about the impact of an environment during a play session. Yesterday we finally managed to get to a club not too far away that run’s a monthly Sunday event. For reasons of our social life, we haven’t managed to attend before. So, were quite excited at the prospect when we realised we would be free yesterday.

The venue is located along a busy road, but hidden from passing traffic. This makes it excellent for access. Inside there seems to be plenty of space, a veritable rabbit warren of play areas, a hot tub, large bar area etc. There was vac play going on, something I’ve tried before.

The club was very busy, the carpark almost full. If lockers are allocated by number from 1 we were 93. This meant there was a lot going on. A great vibe of friends meeting and chatting. Certainly the bar area and other seating was very much like a munch. But one where people are wearing fetish gear or close to naked. I wore a leather bodice and spanking skirt. I’m pleased to say that the bodice did up tighter than last time – I’ve lost several inches from my upper body.

The main drawback was that there were few places available to play at any time. One room contained a couple of spanking benches, and also lounging, bed areas. We spied a vacant bench and got down to business. The trouble was it was noisy. People carried on speaking at the top of their voices, or so it seemed. A conversation about different floggers took place, and someone showed others his wares. There was discussion about leather vs plastic when you are vegetarian. Then in the middle of our play time, a couple began to have sex (very loudly) in the middle of the room.

I struggled to get into my zone, and I think I took quite a bit of pain without necessarily feeling it. In the end we stopped not because we wanted to, but because it was just too distracting.

We know we need to go back for another visit to see whether this club is for us. Perhaps it being so busy was a one off. Perhaps we were just unlucky with where and when we chose to play. We often play at the beginning of the event, but this time didn’t arrive till well over an hour in. But all in all, it was a bit unsatisfactory for us. Plus I came away without a mark!

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The reward

I’ve been looking for some inspiration to write some more erotica and here it is. This beautiful photo of Marie Rebelle for this week’s Masturbation Monday. This is the first time I’ve written from the point of view of a man. So I’ll be interested in comments. Based as always on my own experiences, though not a single event. I’ve also taken the opportunity to use some Big Sexy Words.

Photo: Marie Rebelle, Rebel’s Notes

I watched from the doorway as she positioned herself, on the bed. Kneeling, legs apart, two thirds of the way down, arms outstretched in front, she leaned forward until her back formed a smooth straight line. Now in a state of repose, body relaxed and still. The blue panties, formed a perfect frame, separating her arse cheeks and the gab between. Her beautiful, smooth, tanned skin was lambent, almost inviting my caress. Her pink, shaved cunt seemed to be calling me to touch it. My cock indurated in response. I heard someone take a sharp intake of breath, only to realise that someone was me.

When I see Jess in this position, waiting for me as I’ve instructed it takes me back to those early days of our D/s relationship when we were exploring roles. The surge of power I feel when she takes that submissive pose is like an electric shock. It galvanises me and excites me, not only physically but mentally too. Such was the case today.

I stepped into the room and standing at the end of the bed leaned forward. ‘ready pet’? I asked. She didn’t speak, but a slight nod of her head provided affirmation. My fingers stroked the lace of her panties and traced a line around her cheeks. Leaning in further I placed a series of light kisses over her cool bottom. My fingers moved down to feel the top of her sexy fishnet stockings, then back to trace a line along her panties. This time the gasp came from the top of the bed.

A smile spread over my lips, and I began to nibble her flesh, taking small areas gently between my teeth. Next I placed my hands on her back and gentley massaged above the panty line. ‘are you wet, pet’? I asked as I slid a finger under the blue silk and ran it down between her legs. Her cunt was slick to the touch and clitoris already standing proud.

My cock strained against my boxers and a little pre-come emerged from the tip, making them damp. I wanted to take my pet, to penetrate her highly fuckable cunt, maybe her arse. But first there was the small matter of her reward. The flogging and caning I’d promised her. After all she had been such a good pet this week. Because in this house, impact play is a reward not a punishment.

So, standing upright I turned and reached for the first of the implements I’d laid out and picked out a soft flogger. Then, starting at the top of her spine I ran it slowly down her back before taking aim at her perfectly formed arse. “Thank you Sir” Came her immediate response. This was going to be a fun and fulfilling afternoon. At that point I wasn’t sure whose behaviour was being rewarded.

Big Sexy Words used:

  • Lambent – glowing, gleaming or flickering with soft radiance,
  • Galvanise – to shock or excite into action
  • Indurate – to harden
  • Repose – a state of calm relaxation or contemplation