Fucked on a picnic table

This story is loosely based on fact. I really was fucked on a picnic table in the woods while wearing a leather collar and leash. But the rest of it is part of my fantasy of what might have happened that day. Content warning: Consent Non-consent (CNC), Humiliation.

I am kneeling on the seat of a picnic table. My dress is pulled up to my waist and I am exposing my bottom.
A throwback picture not linked to the original event

A story of being fucked on a picnic table

If ever you go into the woods and stumble across a picnic table, do you wonder who was there before you? What might have happened here? And before you sit down and unwrap the sandwiches you might want to get out the wet wipes, because maybe the last people here fucked on that picnic table.

We met in the car park. As instructed I was wearing a summer dress, sensible shoes and nothing else. Although it was only around 10am the sun was high in the sky and it was warm. In those days I was yet to acquire a car with air conditioning, the open windows did nothing to cool my throbbing cunt. Anticipation rather than heat was at work here. You see, I had no idea what was in store for me. The man I was meeting was very keen on fantasy games and I was his willing victim.

I travelled light, apart from the lack of clothing I only carried a small bag, containing my purse and other essentials. Stuff you don’t really need in the woods (my phone maybe, but signals were poor). He carried a largish rucksack, containing lunch and who knew what else. Not me at that point anyway. He took my bag and put it inside his.

Of course he felt me up in the car park, in front of anyone who happened by, though I can’t remember if any one did. We hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks and we had the hots for each other. I might have fucked there and then if he had requested it. He put a leather collar around my neck and attached a leash, there in the middle of the car park. Then he walked me into the dense woodland and once inside, blindfolded me.

Completely dependent on him I followed his instructions about where to step. Periodically the leash would pull tight and I’d almost stumble. But as instructed I was silent. Concentrating on the sounds and smells of the forest. I had no idea if others were around us and was both humiliated and excited at this sign of my submission. I lingered on the edge of orgasm, made worse as my cunt leaked fluid that caused my thighs to slide together as I walked. I momentarily wondered if I would be permitted an orgasm today.

Suddenly he told me to drop to my knees, as I did so the collar pulled tight against my neck. I assumed the required pose, my knees wide, hands resting loosely on them. I heard some rustling and knew what was in store. Obediently I opened my mouth to take the cock that was thrust into it. I savoured the saltiness of his pre-cum and the very size of what filled my mouth.

“Good cunt” he groaned at me. I concentrated on sucking, my mouth wide and drool already running down my chin. His fingers reached inside my summer dress and pinched my left nipple. “take me girl, take this cock” He said as I felt a sharp pain, a clamp now pinched my breast. I groaned around the huge dick filling my mouth and tensed as pain throbbed through both breasts. For a while I was lost giving him the pleasure he demanded.

He pulled away and pulled me to my feet. His fingers groping for my clit, large and engorged, before pushing two into my dripping cunt. “you are such a wanton slut aren’t you” he asked. I nodded, because it was true. I was and am. “what do you want slut?” he asked. “speak”.

“Your cock Sir”

“Come” he gently pulled on the leash and I followed. My knees knocked into something hard and putting my hands out I felt wood. I ran my hands over the grain. “It’s a picnic table” I could hear him grinning. “We can have lunch here, but first, I’m going to fuck you on it.

Sir Helped me kneel on the seat and then to lean over it. He secured rope around my wrists and tied me to the table. I was now unable to move, though had no desire to do so. I felt his cock pushing into my soaking cunt as I lay secured to the table top. My knees were grazed a little by the wood. My nipples, with the clamps still attached sending ripples of pain through my body. He took his pleasure from me. A wanton slut, blindfolded and collared. Unaware that behind her there were 3 men watching and wanking.

Because as well as taking care about the cleanliness of a picnic table, you should also beware of mentioning your fantasies. Such as the one about being fucked in the woods while others watch.

To be continued!

Co-dependent

I never thought I’d want to be dependent on another person. When my marriage was ending I was adamant I wanted to be independent and to live alone if that was required. I like my own space and at the time I had a well paid job and was exploring what being single could mean. I was 16 when I started going out with my ex, so I’ve never been single. That’s still true in a way. But this relationship is different from that one.

Master first asked me to live with him at the end of a very boozy evening in Amsterdam. It was 2014 and he had just finished with his other slave. Our hotel had an honesty bar and we sat alone there drinking dutch gin, well I did. When he asked if I’d live with him, I laughed and said no. He had to agree it was a mad idea.

But actually it wasn’t such a stupid plan, it just took a while to happen. Our dependence on each other took a while and changes were subtle. Giving up control of orgasms and my body were nothing in comparison to depending on each other emotionally. And, this isn’t a one way road. He has emotional needs that I try to satisfy, to listen to his concerns.

I also bear the brunt of his rants about the ineffectiveness of the bank of England, industry in general, government, the EU. I’m also a sounding board for his knowledge on music, film and literature. If I wasn’t there he’d just be living in his head, so it’s a worthy thing. Plus I learn stuff without having to do the hard work. I also cook and am better at it than him, though he has an amazing palate and advises on flavour He makes a mean salad dressing and is king of what herb or spice goes with what.

Since giving up work and moving in with Master the dependency ratio has swung a little. This is his property, though our home. I have an income from my work pension, but it isn’t enough to support myself completely. He is managing my savings and making a good job of it. Right now, I could walk away with a reasonable sum of money, but I’d probably need to go back to work soon after. I have no plans to do so, but I do recognise my dependence on him financially. Or maybe it is that we are co-dependent because we live cheaper as two than we did living separately.

For him, my being dependent on him feeds into his desire for power and control. I have no problem with this and have willingly given him elements of me and my body to own. There is no abuse here so I am perfectly prepared to let him have the control he so desires.

It’s easy to see how power exchange could result in an unhealthy co-dependency. That’s why consent is so important – safe, sane consensual. Plus the importance of communication, checking in with each other.

As I said at the beginning, I never expected this life. But I am happy to have it. To be with the man I love. Yes, I’m dependent on him, but he is on me. This Master / slave thing is no one way street. We co-exist and are co-dependent. Hopefully we can grow old together this way.

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

Thoughts on submission

This is the second post in the Loving BDSM series 30 days of D/s.

Does a submissive have certain behaviors?

Over the past few years I have met many submissive people, in real life and through the blog and social media. There do seem to be common traits and behaviours that people share. There are many nurses and teachers in our midst, so perhaps caring and nurturing appeal to someone who identifies as submissive. We are often people who appear strong and independent, intelligent and able. But peel away the layers and there is often a vulnerability. A need to serve another, for structure, to be cared for. For me also, I have a need to give the responsibility for decision making to another person. Not for every aspect of life, but an increasing number things.

Do submissives do specific tasks?

There is no one type of submissive, so while many do specific tasks they won’t necessarily be the same ones. The key thing for me is a desire to serve, whether that is providing food, support or other practical things. Or else serving sexually, being ready for use in what ever way he chooses. I don’t have tasks that are expected to be done each day, but more general rules which relate to actions and behaviour.

When you think of a submissive and submission, what thoughts come to mind?

Submission for me is about acknowledging that my life is about serving my dominant, my Master. That he has total power and control of me in all aspects of life. In reality this means that I no longer have secrets, always discuss worries and concerns and where necessary and desirable defer to him for a decision. I often complain and argue but in the end I will usually accept his decision. Though he has been wrong on occasions and said so.

It is in the bedroom or playroom that my submission shows itself more effectively. That is because there I am able to shake off the thoughts and responsibilities of daily life and put myself in his hands. When orgasm control, cock worship, sexual play, impact play and other elements of BDSM come to play. That is when my submissive self more closely matches those you read about in fictional stories and M/s manuals.

But life can’t be one long dungeon scene and I wouldn’t want it to be. So in the main, and average person wouldn’t know I was a submissive. But Master does and that is what matters.

Loving BDSM 30 Days of D/s

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

The changing nature of my submission

#Sccwriting

The empowering nature of submission

There are times when I wonder if I am truly submissive. As I go about my daily life, making decisions and just getting on with things. Should I defer on all things? Should I ask for more direction? 

Well, no actually. After almost 5 years in this relationship we have settled into our roles. Yes, things have changed. I don’t feel the need to be in control all of the time in all things. I no longer need to know everything that is going to happen, I trust him to be in control. That includes deferring to him for advice in a way that I had never known possible before. Master has a quiet, but powerful way of getting me to make decisions where I need to or ensuring that he does where it is better for me. I know I am a strong woman, but I need his support in more ways than I even knew. What is more, I am happy and proud to be his submissive.

What does safe mean?

He makes me feel safe. Indeed, my submission gives me a safety net. It means that I trust him to look after me whether in daily life, or when we are playing. I feel safe that he is making the right decisions for me and us. That isn’t to say that I don’t argue, become ‘unruly’ or ‘bratty’. But who doesn’t push against what they know to be good for them? 

Safe also means a safe word. I may be a slave, but we have never abolished my safe word. While I have never used it, I would if I needed to. As it happens, I only have to express that something is wrong when we play and he will stop. I guess that is what makes me feel safe in his hand, I trust him to make sure no harm comes to me.

BDSM in submission and play

Our life when it comes to BDSM and kink play is set into something of a routine. Our sex-life may look vanilla to the uninitiated observer. But only if there were no sound on the video – words and actions are important for us. Just when I think things are a little predictable he makes me pee on him, or he on me. Or he will make me get on my knees, undo his trousers and tell me to suck him off. 

Play is not a regular feature, but we have the equipment at the ready and suddenly it will appear. More recently we have attended clubs where both my submission and our play have been on display. I hope we can find a way to continue to do that, including the CMnf events. 

Limits over time

When we met I thought I was pretty clear about my limits. Over time he has pushed them slowly and carefully. My level of trust is such now, that I am happy to declare I have no limits. In truth of course there are, but he knows what they are. I have faith that he wouldn’t put me in danger, but will stretch my acceptance of his kinks. You can’t make this kind of thing happen, it takes time, patience and communication. And we have worked on all 3. 

My advice to others

Be prepared to look deeply at yourself and to answer questions about your words and actions. Even those in the past. Trust that you and your dominant will need time to settle into your roles, just as you do in regular life. Allow your submission to develop in your dominant’s hands, let them lead and trust your true personality to emerge. It isn’t always easy, you won’t always get it right but a strong relationship will allow you to be the submissive you both want. Finally trust your instincts – if you think you are submissive then you probably are. 

In The Mood

It is a while since I followed one of the sccwriting prompts. They can be found here.

Submission and sex

There is no doubt in my mind, or indeed Master’s that my submission and sexuality go hand in hand. I am at my most submissive when we are having sex. This is, I think, because when we are having sex I am able to let go of everything else in my mind and just be. I can live in the moment, and when I do that my submission comes to the fore. At the same time, Master’s dominance is most pronounced when he is aroused. That is not to say that our M/s relationship is confined to the bedroom, or indeed playroom. Since that is the other place when my submission is in profound evidence. There are undercurrents all of the time, but they are subtle and not overt. 

Tasks when in the mood for sex

Tasks and rules come more easily to me when I am in the mood for sex, that is definitely true. Calling him Master and myself this girl come automatically and I feel I am pretty much under his spell. During sex and play, I could easily comply with any thing asked of me. As a slave, I have no specific limits, I implicitly trust him to keep me safe and I willingly submit to him. 

Interestingly, since we have been living together, I have begun to regain the ability to relax and allow him to take control much more of the time. In the past I always had to retain responsibility for a large proportion of my life. Recently the need for this has receded and it is now only things to do with my family that I retain control. I see that in the future, my submission will grow and develop and become more evident outside of the bedroom.

Not feeling it

There are plenty of times when one or other of us doesn’t feel the M/s side of our lives. Sometimes that happens at the same time. Since our relationship is strong, I don’t see this as a problem. We are not robots, we are living human beings with feelings and needs. Together we can always work through them.

The rediscovery of my submission

Master reminded me on Friday night that we have hardly used my birthday present from last year.  For various reasons I have ridden this beautiful toy only once or twice. It’s purchase dates back to my experiences at the Secret Dungeon a few months before for his birthday. I could never have imagined just how much fun you could have fucking a machine. While the one at the secret dungeon was a sybian, more sophisticated, not to mention automated, this one relies on the user to do the work.

The fucking machine

Back to Friday night. I hadn’t realised quite how turned on I was just discussing the fact that we hadn’t used this fucking machine for several months. But by the time I had put the dildo in place, applied the condom and slid onboard I was pretty aroused. The dildo slid easily in and out of my  wet cunt as I moved backwards and forwards. As Master stood over me, playing with my nipples, sucking me and pinching I knew an orgasm wasn’t far away. 

He stroked my clit and counted down and I came to his demand. Sliding a finger into may arse, he demanded another and more. “Whose slut are you?” 

“This girl is Master’s slut”

The magic words came easily to my mouth. After months of me and I suddenly it was about ‘this girl’ about ‘His pleasing bitch’, ‘slave’. He became Lord and Master, the words falling from easily my tongue During sex I never have problems remembering who I am, of saying what is expected, but somehow this was different. It was as if for months ‘this girl’ had been sitting outside of my body, watching as I went about my crazy life. All at once she crashed into Julie and a submissive was awoken. All of a sudden I was telling Master that more control was needed, that I was proud to be his slave and wanted more of this. More sex, more orgasms, more time on the sex machine. But also rules. More, much more time remembering I am a slave. His slave.

This girl going forward

Today, sober (we had drunk quite a bit of wine) but also not high on the endorphins of recent orgasms I have had time to reflect. After 4 years as Master’s slave it feels as if I am starting from scratch. Learning again what it means to be his property, not just in bed or on a fucking machine, but in everything. 

The machine seems a good leveller. I defy anyone to strip naked, sit on the dildo and begin to rock while their Dominant watches and not feel the need to concentrate. I remember looking up at him as he stood naked in front of me, stroking his cock. I remember him asking me over and over again to repeat who I am, who he is. I remember the feeling of submission sweeping over me and I remember asking for the magic wand. For a different kind of orgasm. 

Life is not all about sex and fucking machines. It isn’t all about Dominance and submission but in this relationship those things are important. Very likely increasingly so. For us, this toy may enable us to get back to being the people we need to be and on a daily basis. Please.

This slave’s tail

It has been a very long time since this slave felt that she had provided service in the way her Master originally expected.

She isn’t so much disobedient or even unruly (no matter what Master would tell you). But it is about circumstance, timing and yes, laziness, on both sides. But this girl can feel the end of that time in her life coming to an end.

This weekend has been about getting ready for this slave’s future. There will be many more weekends like this until our move is complete. Time when we will be clearing out rubbish, putting things in bags and packing up the things that will be going to Master’s house.

Meanwhile, this weekend, there has been sex, raw passionate sex. And there has been submission time for this this girl naked and open for her Master to take. Clothed without underwear allowing him to have access at any time. A reawakening, a realisation of what might have previously been denied and hidden. His for the taking.

Many months ago, Master bought his girl a tail. She had coveted a bushy tail after seeing one at one of the sexy markets, London Alternative or Birmingham Bizarre Bizarre. One day when the slave arrived at his place, he presented to her. This would be a way for her to show her slutty side and to be his bitch. But, for one reason or another though, probably we were busy and there wasn’t time and it didn’t get used.

On Sunday Master firmly fucked his girl in the ass. The second time in recent weeks as our sex life has taken on new life. The plan was to use the tail for Sinful Sunday, but actually that might have been a little painful. And for one reason and another we didn’t post on Sinful Sunday this week.

On Monday though, the slave finally wore the tail. Still a little sore, inserting the butt plus was a bit of a challenge. But the effect was wonderful, and it won’t be long before that tail comes out again. Maybe she may even wear it out at an event. Till then, here is a photo taken by Master yesterday.

Blogging A-Z 2018: H

This is the third year that I have participated in Blogging A-Z. This year i am going to try to make my topics a little more mainstream. They will, however clearly link to kink and may on occasion be NSFW.

H is for His

He cals her girl. This girl; His girl
He is her Master, her Lord and she His slave
She is His slut, His cum puppy. He controls her orgasms, they belong to Him; His.

He is her owner and she His property
People may find this difficult to understand but for her this is fact. She is His to love, to hold and to control.

Her body is pierced for His pleasure; nipples and clitoris. Her pleasure is His to have, to hold and to control.
She wears a collar, His collar. This is a sign of her slavery of His ownership, that she is His property.

She is His Bitch, Master’s Pleasing Bitch