Nipples

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It wouldn’t be right to write a whole series of posts related to my blogging history without mentioning my breasts or nipples. They have been an important element of my kinky life and our relationship. And it would be wrong too, not to mention that since  October 2018, I only have one of each. 

Nipples in sex and foreplay

My nipples were always sensitive and an important area of foreplay for me. I love having my nipples sucked and played with. Feeling the vibrations from the magic wand or the electricity of the violet wand.

In the early days with S I experimented using pegs on my nipples while he and I had phone sex. Nipple clamps were one of the first bits of equipment he bought to try on me. So when I met Master, I was more than ready for a greater level of torture.

S and I discussed me getting my nipples pierced. But that didn’t happen until soon after I got together with Master. I hadn’t felt right before, and anyway the relationship with S became more of a friends with benefits one. But when Master suggested it, I knew I wanted to do it.

Pierced nipples

We had only known each other for 2 months, but things were moving fast. He loved the idea of me modifying my body for him. And although I wanted to do so, it was something I really wanted for myself. So in April 2014, he came with me to the piercer and I had my nipples and clitoral hood pierced. 

Having my nipples pierced only heightened the sensations I felt when they were touched, pulled or sucked. I bought pretty jewellery and later Master bought me a nipple extender – a vicious but spookily enjoyable experience. But, I didn’t always find my nipple piercings easy to manage. Often the jewellery made them sore and so for long periods of time, I tended to leave the same bar or ring in place. Interestingly the right was often more troublesome and often oozed serous fluid. The histology report from my mastectomy said that the nipple was chronically inflamed. 

Post Mastectomy nipple

I think that the worst thing about the mastectomy is not the loss of breast tissue, but of my nipple. I am planning a reconstruction, but any nipple won’t be real, it will have to be a tattoo. 

Of course, though, I still have a nipple and a breast. Somehow it doesn’t quite feel the same. I seem to have lost some of the connection it previously had with arousal and my clitoris. This may be psychological as when Master is playing with it, or sucking it I am often thinking of the lost right one. It may then be about time and finding a new normal. It has only been 6 months and the mind takes longer to heal than the body.

That isn’t to say I don’t want my nipple pinched and squeezed. I do. I am still pierced and do plan new jewellery soon. It’s just that coming to terms with only having one nipple is taking longer than I imagined it would. 

AtoZ2019N

 

 

 

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Kinky

Our sex life is 99% kinky, but day to day we barely reach 40%. Our sex life ebbs and flows, much like everyone else, I imagine. Life gets in the way and often we are powerless to intervene. Or else too tired.

But sometimes we get the opportunity to reach a full 100%. Just such an event happened on Monday night when we checked into The Stoxx

We spent the weekend an hour or so away indulging in the culture of late 19th century / early 20th century English song. Also enjoying the delights of local food and drink. During the day on Monday we visited two nearby cities, visiting the cathedrals and generally soaking up more culture. By the time we arrived at the dungeon I was feeling a little jaded.

The set up

Set in the middle of the countryside Stoxx is a purpose built cabin. We climbed the 8 or so steps and found ourselves in the bedroom area. The bed itself was constructed of sturdy wood with a cage and blackout area underneath. At the end of the bed was a set of stocks.

Into the play room and the sheer array of kink equipment was almost mind blowing. With benches, a swing, St Andrew’s cross etc. As well as various implements to please or torture, depending on your point of view.

A swing, set within a BDSM dungeon room.
Kinky play

Soon after we arrived, we got down to some kinky play. I wore a kind of net dress for the duration and was soon leaning over one of the benches while Master thrashed me soundly. For once, this didn’t really get me into the right mood. I struggled to empty my mind of the busy weekend and day of culture. So we took a break for a while and relaxed on the sofa and drank some wine. After a while though I was ready for some very intense play. The result of which can be seen in the image below. There will be plenty more of these to be seen over the coming weeks.

Me lying on a bench being fucked by a fucking machine.
Photo taken and edited by Master.
Sinful Sunday

Humiliation

One of the first things I learned on my submissive journey was that I enjoyed being humiliated in a sexual way. Against even my own expectations I enjoyed being called a slut or bitch. Early in my relationship with S I was expected to dress in clothing that would usually be restricted to the bedroom. Or to drive to meet him with my skirt pulled up around my waist. I found myself buying clothing I usually considered too short for my age. Then, when I wore them out with him and he whispered that I was a whore, I felt turned on rather than horrified. These were all revelations to me.

In July 2012, I wrote about our first date:

On our very first date, on that first night. i dressed in a short skirt, which only just covered my stockings and suspenders. i wore black heeled shoes that i could barely walk in and i walked into a bar and ordered a drink. i sat at a table and waited until Sir who i had barely met in person came into the bar and asked to join me. He had us move to another table with lower chairs where he could observe and touch me more easily and then we tried to engage in normal ‘we’ve just met and are just having a chat’ conversation while he ran his hand up my stocking top in pretty much full view of the bar.

This was humiliating, sir told me later that i was a slut for doing it, but i loved it. The whole time experiencing a combination of blind panic and amazing exhilaration.

17 July 2012

That relationship was characterised by such behaviour. I loved and embraced it. Though I am not sorry that Master is not into stockings and heels. In a way, it was all part of the journey to the submissive woman and slave I am now.

Humiliation now

At the beginning Master told me he preferred me to wear no underwear. The idea that people might see I was wearing no knickers or bra was both thrilling and scary. He likes to touch me in a public place and to photograph me. Often people aren’t far away. The possibility of discovery is one of the things I both love and hate, but mainly love. I’ve not been out without underwear since my mastectomy, but it is something I plan this summer.

In the bedroom, playroom or club he likes me to wear clothes he considers sexy. These tend to be leather harnesses, a net dress or something similar. Kink wear feels natural in those environments, but outside they feel less so.

But the main way in which Master likes to humiliate me is through the use of certain words. That is where Master’s pleasing bitch comes in. Soon after I became his slave, Master renamed me His pleasing bitch. The use of this name and also calling me girl were designed to show that it was he that was important rather than me. It was almost that I didn’t need a specific identity. Instead my whole role was to please him and to be the bitch he wanted and needed.

Being treated as ‘just’ slave was humiliating and degrading. But also it was completely liberating. Suddenly I was able to leave my identity as Julie behind, including the baggage of life. Instead I could just be MPB or this girl.

Reflections on humiliation in this M/s relationship

In my past relationship, humiliation was about looking slutty and being called names. Rather than hate it, I loved it. But the dressing up part was a kind of role play and still is.

Now, I am always slave. But there is still the need for ritual to get into the right mindset. The burdens of every day life remain, along with the responsibilities that go with them. So we engage in a ritual where I tell him who and what I am. During this I recite that: this girl is his bitch, his pleasing bitch. That he is this girl’s Master and that he controls her limits.

While this is most often immediately before sex or play, that doesn’t mean that it can’t occur at other times. It is humiliating to recite this mantra, but also it reaffirms that I am his slave and always will be.

Dominant

It wasn’t until I started to read about Dominance and submission that I realised I needed a dominant. And until I had been dominated in the bedroom I truly know that I am submissive. But I did and I am.

Back in 2012 I tackled the 30 days of submission meme. Day 26 asked what I was looking for in a dominant partner. I wrote this:

 i wanted my dominant to be well dominant. i wanted him to tell, not ask and essentially that is what i got. i wanted him to help me to push the boundaries and that is what i got. 

i wanted more sex, i wanted to try sex in ways i had never tried before, i wanted to submit. i wanted to dress for him, to parade myself for him, i wanted the humiliation and the excitement. i didn’t know i wanted to be restrained, to be spanked, clamped. But i do.

After my first D/s relationship ended, I knew I wanted another dominant partner. But experience told me that I needed someone who took D/s more seriously. Someone who would expect more from me, the submissive than I had previously experienced. That is exactly what I got.

In October 2014 I revisited the question in relation to my new relationship with Master:

Generally I feel His control all of the time. When we are together of course – He makes the decisions, though offers me choices. I don’t even always choose my own food when we eat out, let alone where we go. When I am on my own, I consider what He might think of my choices around the time I make them. Sometimes I consult with Him and He ‘advises’. Here though, I don’t feel it so easily.

What do I need from my Dominant now?

The main difference between then and now is clarity. We both know what our roles are and who is in charge. There is never a day now that I don’t feel his dominance, or for that matter my submission. Living together brought that clarity, but did having a 5 year relationship behind us. We have had great times together, but tough ones too. By giving up my house to live with Master and by leaving work my dependency on him increased. I never thought I would admit this, but I love the feeling of the power he has over me. I like that I am dependent on him in so many ways.

It is truly weird to write these words, since I struggled for so long to be the mistress of my own destiny. To have control over everything around me. I was quite the control freak.

But don’t imagine I am some weak and feeble individual. Indeed those who read my blog regularly know that already. But I don’t need to be in charge and don’t need to make all the decisions any more.

I am not completely compliant, far from it. I am frequently described as bratty. Usually I am pushing the boundaries, checking how far I can go. Of course there are times when I need to take care of him too and temporarily take over. When he is ill or a little drunk, for example. But in the main Master has the last word and I know that, he calls the shots. Usually he asks my opinion, but if he doesn’t then it is generally time to just get on with it.

I have chosen to live with a dominant man and by doing so I have discovered the true extent of my submission.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Butt plug

One of the first purchases I made when I started to explore BDSM was a butt plug. This was at the behest of S who in April 2012 I had just started a relationship with. On 29th April of that year I was preparing to visit him and wrote this:

Last night we discussed what i will wear when i visit him later this coming week. For obvious reasons it will not be practical to drive dressed as a maid at 7 in the morning. i guess in the evening you could easily be on the way to a fancy dress party but in the morning, well no. i have a very nice black and white skirt, recently purchased from M&S, which is knee length but which easily rides up when you are sitting. i will be wearing this with a new low cut white top. Underneath will be no underwear except for stockings and suspenders. The stockings will be fish net. i will be driving with my skirt around my waist and i will be wearing a butt plug. i will stop at a service area and use a dildo to make myself cum while talking to Sir on the phone. These are his instructions and I will comply with them.

My excitement at taking instructions and doing something so risqué was obvious. The relationship was just under a month old and I was embracing it with the enthusiasm of a teenager. On heat.

Anal sex was a large part of what we did together. It was a new experience and something I discovered I enjoyed. It felt forbidden and dangerous, but it was also a huge turn on.

Wearing a butt plug now

The first time my now Master and I played he inserted a plug into me as part of the events. A week or two later and he also had possessed me. Soon after he bought me a small n-joy butt plug, followed soon after by a much larger one. I wore them frequently when we lived apart.

Once the bulb of the plug has passed through the anal sphincter there is no pain. But it is something that you know is there, inside you. As you move around, so the pressure changes slightly. I find that I am almost constantly aroused. The presence of the plug inside me is something I can focus on if I want or need to. When stressed or upset for example. During the early days of our relationship, especially during difficult times with Master’s other slave, I used a butt plug to help focus me. Sometimes at Master’s request, but other times it was my decision. Its presence also helps achieve great organisms through clitical stimulation.

In recent times I have worn my butt plugs less frequently. As life became busy and I focused on other things. Perhaps because we were out so much at weekends. But now we are trying to refocus on anal sex and my wearing of the plug. The requirement is for me to wear it on Tuesdays and Thursdays. To be honest, I think I would be happy to try more days, since I am finding it a pleasant addition to my usual routine. It really is helping me to focus on the feelings it gives me. To think about my submission when I do other things. This morning we had anal sex for the first time in ages and I think this might become a more common occurrence.

Experiences of bondage

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

Bondage has been part of my BDSM / kink experience since the beginning. Both of my dominants have enjoyed restraining me in one way or another and from the start I knew it was something I liked too. Their techniques, materials used and locations may have differed, but the experience for me is the same. I find restraint relaxing and freeing, so much so that I rarely find the need to struggle against it.

First experiences of bondage

S was into homemade equipment. Indeed he was into homemade everything, he was somewhat careful with his money. However that doesn’t detract from his skill and imagination. He loved being outdoors and was a keen hiker and cyclist, and a day out with him was always interesting. Along with the all weather picnic he carried rope, scarves and other equipment in his backpack. I can’t deny that I had some extremely fun times with him. It is a shame that there is no photographic evidence so show for those times.

A number of times, I found myself tied to a tree while he used my body or had me give him a blowjob. Back at home he had a fabulous bed with a frame that lent itself perfectly to tying me to it. Then he would use ties, of which he had a large often garish supply.

Even on the day he dumped me I had been tied up and used. Long time readers will know that there was a part two to that relationship. Even though the D/s ended, the kinky sex and restraint didn’t. We enjoyed that right until the last time we met.

Reflections on my experiences of bondage with Master

The very first time we played, I was restrained in a spreader bar, that was tied to the bed. My wrists were cuffed and restrained to the bed above my head. I was blindfolded and gagged. For the first time in a long time I allowed myself (if I had any control) to drift into sub space. Since then, I can honestly say I haven’t looked back.

At the beginning of our relationship I called Master gadget man. This is because he had a lot of equipment; restraints, vibrators, dildos, impact toys. Over the years his repertoire has continued to grow. One of the best experiences ever, was when we went to a private dungeon for an overnight stay. The equipment there was fantastic and took things to another level. This is an experience we will be repeating in a couple of weeks time.

But it isn’t all about equipment, whether high or low tech. There is more to bondage than that. At a club I might lean over, or lie on a bench unrestrained. But, even though Master is hitting me with floggers and canes, I don’t more (much). There is something about the situation that keeps me in position and prevents me from moving out of reach. I love the way that I am able to get into my submissive space even without physical restraint.

Emotional bondage

Finally I am tied to Master by the collar and cuff I wear and by my piercings. To me these are physical symbols of emotional bondage. I agreed to be his slave and in return I wear those signs. In the main they are noticeable only by us, especially the piercings. But they are there to tell the world that I am his. The knowledge that I am his slave helps me through each day, including the decisions I make. One of the rules of our relationship is that I consider what he would think when I make a decision. Am I doing what he would want, how will it affect us and our relationship, will it make him proud of me? I believe that this is the most important element of our M/s relationship.

Play is important, as is the type of kinky sex we have. But more important is that I stay true to myself and to him. That I am bonded to him in the way I am. Even though others can’t see those invisible restraints, they are there. They make me feel safe, loved and needed.

tellmeabout

Orgasms

It is over 5 years since I gave up control and ownership of my orgasms. Before that, I didn’t really know that was a thing and even if I had, I doubt I would have understood what it meant.

When I was seeing S, he made me ask permission to cum. This, I have discovered isn’t the same thing as having your orgasms owned and controlled by someone else.

Permission

From the first time I was told to ask for permission to come, I loved it. Here was a man that was actually interested in me having an orgasm. Someone who wanted to experience something of my enjoyment to feel the moment. My previous experience had been with a man who was really only interested in himself.

Permission was only needed when we were together. When we weren’t and I was getting myself off, then it wasn’t necessary. I thought little about this at the time and continued on my merry way. Just as well, since we only saw each other every 6 weeks or so.

When Master and I got together he put in place the same rule. I was to ask to come when we were together. However he would own my orgasms whether we were together or not.

Ownership

When we lived apart, Master still allowed me to orgasm when we weren’t actually together. However I was to thank him at the moment I came. I pretty much never broke this rule. Amazing really since I have broken plenty other rules over the years. This though brought with it the feeling that we were emotionally joined even when we were apart. It also stopped me making myself come for the sake of it.

When I was seeing S and before that even, I masturbated frequently. I often found the process enjoyable, but once I had reached orgasm felt it anticlimactic. A few minutes later I would feel unfulfilled and start over. Sometimes I would masturbate several times in an evening, afternoon or whatever. But at the end of it all I would be left thinking that there must be more to it than that.

For some reason, masturbating and then having to thank a person not even present seemed to work better for me. During this period, most of my masturbating took place at night. Late when I couldn’t get off to sleep, early when I had been woken by my ex walking into the house or had just been disturbed by a menopausal flush. Sometimes the effect was to send me to sleep, but other times it tended to wake me. Serial orgasms alone didn’t really work for me though, whether I thanked Master or not.

Control

There is more to orgasm control than seeking permission to cum. It is about being told to cum or being told you cannot. It is about being made to wait and being reminded that your body is actually his. This is the world I now inhabit.

I can honestly say that I have not masturbated alone since I have been living with Master. Funnily enough not even when we have been apart. For some, unknown reason I haven’t felt the need to even ask. My toys, regularly used now only come into play when we decide to do so together.

Partly I guess this could be because of the various health related events of the past few months. But more it feels that there is no need. I have the control I need and I don’t need to use a toy when he his only too willing to use his fingers or tongue. Or when a toy is required he is the one holding it. Teasing me and making me beg for my orgasm.

When I look back over the past few years the rule about orgasms hasn’t changed. But the way I experience and enjoy them has. Right at the moment though, because we have both recently suffered form viral illnesses orgasms are seriously lacking for us both.

tellmeabout
Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Wayback when

I have a few photos that were taken before I regularly posted anything of myself. Wayback then, I was a little more worried about showing pictures of myself. Especially those of me in a somewhat compromising situation. Things have changed over the years.

This photo was taken at the very beginning of our relationship, almost exactly 5 years ago. At the end of our second or third playdate (I think). What you can’t see here (and I might show it another day) is my red pussy which had just been pumped. Not only did he clamp my nipples, but also used the zipper and spreader bar. The intensity of pain and of pleasure that day is something I can still remember even though I am short on details. It may have happened wayback when, but this is the first time I have shared this photo here.

February Photofest