Nipple (singular)

Blogging A-Z - N

I hadn’t expected that the only two categories beginning with N would involve the word nipple(s). But since that’s what it is, I feel compelled to write about it.

Things in the nipple department feel a lot different now I only have the one. I’m not in love with my remaining boob in the way I was when I had two. My nipple is still pierced and I have new jewellery. But I am tardy with changing it. I have no problems in looking at my body, and do so every day. However I don’t really look at my remaining boob, much less the nipple. I do still self examine, but not as much as I did. I’m on oestrogen inhibitors so I am not expecting anything to appear. Plus I’m sure I’d recognise the signs. No, I always look at my scars, at the way the skin changes colour around them. How well they are healed. The fact you can still see where I had radiotherapy.

Master approaches things from the opposite direction

He still finds my tit and nipple attractive and bought me the new jewellery He loves to touch, squeeze and suck. I love it too, while it’s happening. I do still get off through nipple play. But not as much as before. I’m pretty sure it’s psychological. Something about the breast cancer and mastectomy I’m kind of blocking out. The photos on my blog of me topless since my mastectomy are taken to show I’m happy to be seen. That I’m not ashamed of my body and I’m not. But I struggle to be proud of what remains, and that seems a shame. Maybe I’m too hard on myself.

A new boob

The surgery to get a new boob is huge. I’ve been lucky to make a friend through this blog who has advised me on the reality. Teri contacted me through the blog and I was lucky enough to meet her during Eroticon weekend (even though the event was cancelled we were both in London). The operation is extensive, the recovery long and potential side effects serious. But the time we met, Teri was about 6 months post op. She could finally say she was pleased with it her new boob and the fact she can now go braless. That is a key thing for me too. Right now I don’t feel happy braless. It just feels weird.

Surgery involves taking some of your tummy fat and putting it under the flap that is left of the breast. There isn’t quite enough flesh so people end up with a patch. what you don’t get at this point is a nipple. This is fashioned later and then the area is tattooed. From photos I have seen, the effect looks fabulous. If and when it’s ever done and completed I’m sure my tits will look great again. Especially as one of the things they’ll do is to perk the other one up a bit (middle aged sag etc).

But a painted nipple isn’t really a nipple at all. No baby could be fed from it and there won’t be any feeling in it. This is the hard cold reality. Looks good but feels of nothing. Much like the right side of my chest right now, numb.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful to be cured. Grateful too that these opportunities are available and that I don’t need to pay for them. But that doesn’t take away the sense of loss.

Who knows when?

The current pandemic has thrown routine surgery into the long grass. People requiring mastectomy are currently not offered immediate reconstruction. Those of us whose hospital / surgeons don’t offer that option can’t even get onto a waiting list. But the time this is over they will be months and months behind.

In a way this offers me the opportunity to get my head into an even better place. To decide for sure if I want it done. But also to try to get more enjoyment from the breast and nipple I have. Maybe, during the summer if the weather is right, go braless. In fact I think it’s something I’ll set myself a goal of doing. I don’t love my nipple any more, but I’m going to see if I can’t like it again.

Exhibited for his pleasure

E

The harness served to frame my upper body. Under my arms and around my tits, before fastening at the back. My nipples tingled, held tightly within bejewelled shields stood hard and proud. The collar, attached to the harness was wide, and quite tight. This meant I could only look ahead of me, my field of vision therefore was limited.

It was difficult to know how long ago Master left me in this position, by the main door. My legs spread wide, hands behind my back, hard nipples tingling under pressure. Quite a few people had already walked past. Some had looked me in the eye, nodding in greeting. I of course had kept my face and eyes impassive, as instructed. I couldn’t deny feeling both apprehensive and excited about tonight’s proceedings. The culmination of my training as Master’s slave.

My role during the first part of proceedings was to be an exhibit.

An object to be looked at and admired. Master planned to have people to touch and arouse me. To play with me a little and perhaps use me. This both scared and excited me.

“Most people are here now” Master suddenly appeared in front of me. “Shall we go?” He held up a leather leach and clipped it to the ring at the front of her collar. I carefully moved my feet so that I would be able to walk and then concentrated on putting one heeled foot in front of the other and followed, hands still behind my back.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was still warm outside. The day had been sunny and even though it was getting dark, there was a humidity to the evening. In any case, rather than being cold as you’d expect when naked, I felt hot, aroused. It was almost as if heat emanated from my cunt and nipples.

Wearing a harness

Play thing

Master led me towards someone I recognised, a friend from our local club. “Doesn’t she look quite the exhibit” Giles smiled in appreciation. I felt myself blush a little “May I?” he asked. Master nodded and Giles looked me in the eye as he ran a finger around the front of the harness. “These are lovely” my nipples tingled as he touched the shield and squeezed a nipple.

“What would you like to do with her? ” Master asked his friend with a grin. Giles was running his fingers down my tummy his eyes on my shaved cunt. “Perhaps a little flogging?” Master led me to a bench that had been set up outside and I leaned over it. “Good girl” he whispered to me.

One by one, Master’s friends, male and female were offered use of me. Everyone else either mingled, played in their own couples or groups or stopped to watch. Over the course of the next while, maybe an hour I was watched, played with and generally used. Flogged and caned. Poked with toys and fingers. I sucked several cocks and was licked almost dry. I kneeled, and crawled for the pleasure of others. Then finally Master fucked me in full view of everyone.

At last, sore and tired I was released from the collar and harness and taken away by my fellow submissives.

I took off my shoes and went with them to prepare for the ceremony.

My permanent collaring. Master had told me that once he put the steel collar around my neck I would be his and his alone. Of course, that was the case already, but in future others would not be allowed to touch me.

My friends helped me shower and moisturise, then apply my makeup. At last they dressed me in the simple white dress I had chosen for the occasion. Low cut at the front, the dress gathered under my braless tits. The skirt flowed dreamily down to my bare feet. I was naked underneath but the garment made me look somewhat chaste. Holding the hands of Beth and Sam my two best girl friends we walked back into the garden where everyone waited.

As the three of us emerged silence fell on the large group and a pathway formed as everyone allowed us to walk through the throng. Master walked towards us and held out his hand. I took it and walked happily towards my fate. Slave to Master. A life long commitment.

Wearing His Collar

Collars are such a huge symbol in the kink community. Attend any munch or kink event and you will see many people of all genders wearing them. In that context, a collar doesn’t necessarily denote that a person is submissive. But, that they consider themselves part of a community or lifestyle. Collars come in all shapes and sizes, leather, string, rope and metal. But as a submissive how does it feel to wear the collar of your dominant? In my case, His collar.

Play collar

During the first weeks of our relationship Master often put a leather play collar on me when we played. I loved the feel of it and what it represented. Plus it put me into the submissive space I needed to get into. Often we would come together at the end of a working week, at his place or mine. It took time for me to settle into that place, to move from being the responsible manager, mother to a young adult into his slut.

After a while he bought me posture collars, something I both love and hate. I don’t have the thinnest of necks but also love the tightness and restriction it provides. One of the collars was attached to a leather harness. It was when wearing these items that Master began to take more photos of me.

The first signs of permanent commitment came early in our relationship. My piercings. Of course, no one but us knew they existed.

The first external symbol

Neither of us were free to commit to each other in those early days. My ex was still coming home for odd days (and nights) and Master was still (in theory) with his primary slave. So, he bought me something to wear around my wrist. A chunky chain with a lock. To us it had the symbol of a collar worn around the neck. I wore it most, if not all of the time.

A permanent collar

In July 2015 Master collared me with a locked titanium ring. His collar. I’ve rarely removed it other than for medical reasons. My collar remains even after almost 5 years a lasting symbol of our commitment to each other. The photo below was taken on the day Master put it around my neck.

Few people know what it means and in the main even fewer mention it. Generally those that comment do so to tell me they like it. At Munches people ask if it is what they think it is. I always say that it has meaning and isn’t just for show. Because it’s made of titanium it is light weight and doesn’t set off alarms at airports. I love the look on the faces of security when I’m not called back for a pat down. When the weather is hot, or I am, I can move it around so that a cool area touches the back of my neck. Equally when feeling anxious you are likely to see me touching it. It might be a symbol, much as a wedding ring is. But I am proud to wear His collar.

Categories – C

There have been many categories beginning with C. Including censorship, Christmas and clamps. There was a fun period when I was a cock worshipping slut and more recently there is chastity. The most common reason people find my blog. A few posts on female chastity. Control feature frequently as you would expect in an M/s relationship.

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