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!

Lazy Sunday Morning

I’m out of new and original photos for February Photofest. So, some effort will be required to generate the 6 photos needed to make it to the finish line. Make that 5, because I snapped this image of myself enjoying my lazy Sunday morning in bed.

A photo of my left breast. I'm lying in bed relaxing. You can see my shoulder, breast and the bedcover. I'm wearing a horseshoe shaped jewel in my nipple.

Master's plaything

This would have been a great image for this objectification post from last week. But I wanted to save it for February Photofest. I’m not really sure why this hasn’t been featured before, but really happy to include it now. This was also taken at the secret Dungeon

As you can see my nipples are clamped, plus there is the hood and lead. I was definitely Master’s plaything that night!

Pegs – not just for clothes

The current Kink of the Week is pegs or clothes pins as they are called in some places. Now, the application of pegs to my body was the first form of pain I inflicted on myself at the hands of another. As I describe in this post, S instructed me to apply pegs to my nipples while we spoke on the phone. It was mainly a long distance relationship and he wanted to exert his control over me. So, many times he instructed me to do things to my body while he listened (and later watched). This was my first introduction to Dominance and submission, and I was surprised at how readily I wanted to comply.

Nipple play

Using pegs on my nipples was the forerunner to the introduction of nipple clamps. Nipple pain for me was a sure fire way of getting me to orgasm, and then some. There was a clear channel between those nipples and my clit. It still exists but having only one nipple things are a bit different, but I digress.

The other thing about using pegs or nipple clamps is that while having them in place is painful, it is their removal that causes pain. But that pain is somehow quite delicious and can last for quite some time.

Master hasn’t used pegs for nipple play, he uses them for something altogether more evil. The Zipper.

The Zipper

Around 8 pegs have been joined together by string, and these applied to the lips of my pussy. Then an evil sadist comes along and pulls the string and off come the pegs. This is absolutely fucking painful. And amazingly fabulous at the same time. This photo was taken early in our relationship, the first few weeks. You’ll see I was shaved, and soon after was instructed to grow my hair. Also there are marks! As I wrote in my previous KOTW I really hardly ever mark! Also look at that post for a glimpse of nipple clamps being used elsewhere!

We haven’t used the zipper for sometime and I don’t wasn’t to make suggestions that I might live to regret but actually it would be good to get to that place again. Yep, pegs in kink play are a damn good thing, plus they are cheap. Plus if really necessary you can even use them later to hang your clothes out too dry. Though maybe not if they are tied together with string!

Being pierced

My left breast with a small bite to the left of the nipple. I have a piercing with a semi circular ring in situ. the colour contrast between the area of my chest that has seen the sun and that which has been in my bra are marked. The sun is also shining on the paler area.

We had been together just a matter of weeks when I became a pierced woman. I’d had my ears pierced as a teenager, but body piercings weren’t something I had considered until I was in my 50s.

S had first broached the idea and I have to say I was tempted. But since he wasn’t as committed to our relationship as me, I’m glad that didn’t happen. But when Master suggested nipple and clit piercings to me, I jumped at the chance. To this day, I don’t even know why I was so keen.

Sign of my submission

Or maybe being pierced was something that felt part of my submission. An intimate way of showing him I wanted to be his submissive. It felt right and since he came with me when I had them done, I knew he was serious. I wrote about the experience here, at the time.

Since that time we have discussed the links between my piercings and role as his submissive and slave. Certainly they have been a focus of his attention over the years. That I was willing to do that for him and that he could enjoy them so much.

An aid to pleasure

I always loved having my nipples played with. Also, I loved (and hate) having clamps applied. To begin with, the slight pain following piercing was a turn on in itself. Later once they began to heal I enjoyed trying new jewellery and he loved putting chains between them.

The clit piercing was and still is quite the arousal tool. He loves rubbing his finger, tongue or cock over it. I also like to rub around the bar when I get myself off. Also if I wear something tight I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t take much wriggling to be able to come through my clothes.

It is in a mighty fiddly place though. I can only see it with a mirror and we had the devils job undoing the balls on the bar. So much so that I left it in place till I had surgery last October (4 years). We replaced the metal with a plastic bar which is there now. I have plans to change it and Master has bought me a new jewelled bar. But we are lazy and maybe it won’t be done till after my next surgery.

My one nipple

The histology report on my mastectomy said that the right nipple was chronically inflamed. I have to admit that the piercing continued to weep and crust even after 4 years. The left was always better, especially once I’d had it re-pierced in Amsterdam.

Now of course I have one breast, one nipple and one piercing. The pleasure I used to have when my breast and nipple were stroked and caressed is not so evident. I know this is psychological and hopefully it will subside. Maybe once I have two breasts again, I will take more pleasure in nipple play again. Mean time, I still wear my jewellery and like the way it looks.

Instead of dwelling on this, we are looking forward to new piercings once surgery is done.

Future piercings

We’ve talked for a long time about me getting my inner labia pierced. I’ve written about it and would love it I know. Along with the tattoos we have planned that is the next step. I will need my new breast tattooing with a nipple and I will be looking for someone experienced in that area. At the same time, I hope to get the piercings done too.

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

Nipples

IMG_3012 (1)

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

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

Love lock

I’d always wanted my labia pierced. But until Master came along, I didn’t have the nerve. He was keen to know and understand my kinks and it wasn’t long before I told him about this one. The idea of wearing a chastity devise, that locked my labia together was something I’d dreamed of. A love lock if you will. That and a man who shared a desire to control my orgasms. It soon became clear he was that man.

Today, I am wearing his love lock. 2 large rings protrude from my labia and within the folds of my vulva, the clitoral hood is also pierced. A padlock secures the larger rings in place. The pressure on my clit is immense and I am on edge most of the time. I long for release, but equally I love the forced abstinence. I am forbidden to touch, but at every opportunity Master slips a finger through the gap between my pussy lips and teases. He only unlocks me when desires to use me. Thankfully that is often. He can’t get enough of his locked in love.

Photo from unknown tumblr blog before such photos were removed.

The deed is done

The rollercoaster events of the past few weeks came to a conclusion yesterday. Once the decision for me to have a mastectomy was made last Wednesday we began to make plans for the weekend. Being away from home helped, and while we obviously discussed the operation, we also concentrated on having a good time.

The music festival got off to a great start with workshops about the poetry of Lord Byron and it’s musical settings, followed by a day on Debussy. There were evening concerts and meals in our favourite restaurants.

On Saturday night we drank a little too much, and Master took a few photographs of me naked in our Airbnb living room. I don’t know if we will ever show them, but we have a few good shots for ourselves.

Sunday was spent at a study session, learning about classical composers and their music across European and transatlantic borders. Then we travelled home. Driving home in the rain we encountered heavy traffic, but once home spent the evening quietly.

By now we both felt ready to face the inevitable. It was time to get this operation done. The time for commiserations done. On Monday morning I had an early breakfast and then we went back to bed for a while. Snuggled together he stroked and kissed me before bidding farewell to my right breast.

It turned out to be a long day

Although we arrived at the hospital at 12.30, I didn’t go for the operation until 4.30. My son came over to spend the afternoon with us. A slightly surreal but pleasant afternoon passed.

My first ever anaesthetic and operation passed smoothly and by 6.45pm I had woken up. I was amazingly awake and felt pretty good. The first face I saw as I arrived back on the ward was Master’s. A feeling of immense relief passed over me. Within minutes I was speaking to my son on the phone to reassure him all was well.

As I lay in my bubble of post surgery euphoria, I snuck a peek inside the front of my gown. My left breast remains in tact, its nipple still holding the plastic bar I bought for the operation. My right side is flat, the wound hidden by dressings, it’s breast and nipple is no more.

There were 4 of us women in our shared bay, all recovering from surgery for breast cancer. After Master and other visitors had left we lay in our beds talking about our experiences to date. Reflecting on this shared journey. Our nurses were kind and compassionate, encouraging us to talk.

It was a long night

Only one of us slept last night and that someone wasn’t me. The ward was quiet, but each of us had our lower legs encased in machinery designed to prevent thrombosis. The intermittent noise generated by each one seemed to prevent sleep. Added to this, regular observations by the diligent nursing staff and alarms elsewhere meant none of us slept for more than a few minutes at a time. Still the sence of cameradey carried us through to breakfast at 7am.

While the two women who had lumpectomies headed home at lunchtime, two of us remain for another night. I am hopeful of being sent home tomorrow. I faced my bare chest in the bathroom mirror this morning as I washed and don’t relish the thought of seeing my scar. But this has to be faced, and now hopefully the cancer is gone. Difficult days lie ahead for me and for him. But we are facing this together.

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