When even the London streets are deserted it is an ideal time to take a few photos. You might notice that this is from the same evening as ‘come join the party’ a Sinful Sunday post 2 weeks ago. This time I am using the bottle (now empty) to shield myself from the gaze of the camera. It is late and I am ready for bed and Master who waits for me there. But in those last few moments, there is still the chance someone might see me from below.
The main symbol of my submission, that I am Master’s slave is my collar. Mostly I wear the same titanium collar and rarely remove it. You can see it in most of the photos of me, taken in the last 4 years or so. For Christmas Master presented me with a new collar. Something to wear on special occasions, given its weight. The photo below was taken at the end of January. For most of that month I had been unable to wear anything around my neck because of my radiotherapy treatment. That finished on 31st and so when we went to our local munch that evening I wore my Christmas collar. A symbol of his ownership of me and that I am his slave.
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.
I’ve never really considered if I have a sexual style, never mind what it is. But I guess that just as I have altered my hair style over the years, there have been changes when it comes to my sexual style. In the past, I was some what repressed and while I had fantasies, they weren’t something I discussed. Even with my husband, though he would have liked it if I had.
When it comes to sex, I like to be led
Before I knew I was submissive I wanted my man to take the lead. I wanted to be told what to do. Trouble was, I wasn’t very good at expressing my needs. Instead, I needed someone who knew what they wanted. I certainly have that now. Master does like me to tell him what I want, but if I can’t or won’t he is perfectly able to take control (as you would expect).
I like to exhibit my sexuality to others
I love to show off, it is who I am. An extrovert by personality, while I don’t always appear so to strangers, once comfortable in their presence, I like to perform. Master uses this to his advantage and gets me to show myself in public for his pleasure. Many of my photos involve me undoing my top or showing off my bum or cunt to him. Often there is no one to see, but sometimes there is, though they tend not to notice. I love to stand in front of the window naked, but again people don’t often look up. I also love to be naked under my clothes, for easy access and exhibitionism.
The clothes I wear demonstrate my sexual style
My preference is tops and dresses that show some cleavage. This is a little more difficult since my mastectomy, but I have discovered that showing some lacy bra is fine too. I prefer to wear my skirt shorter, I’m not all that keen on midi length. My legs are still reasonable, though a bit fatter at the top than they were, or I’d like. But, I’m not averse to wearing shorts in summer or a shortish skirt. This winter I tend to have hidden myself under leggings and jumpers, and am looking forward to spring and fewer clothes. Heels are not my thing. I am tall (taller than Master) and I really do like comfort over style. But if I own lots of shoes and boots (something I only realised when I packed my stuff to move last summer).
My writing helps me express myself
This blog and twitter have allowed me to express myself in a way I didn’t expect. I enjoy writing about my experiences and constructing fiction. My journey into this M/s relationship and kink has been liberating. While I still struggle to articulate my thoughts about it into spoken work, I can express myself through my blog. The sexual being I am comes though loud and clear. And that can’t be a bad thing.
Warning – Image NSFW
As I wrote here in 2016, mutual masturbation has become a part of my life that is different from what happened before. Now that we live together, all elements of our sex life have moved onto another level. There is more sex and more masturbation. Plus there is more time for fun and games while masturbating.
Slave to the machine
We lay in bed. I was browsing twitter, blog comments, the news. Regular stuff. He was looking at porn, while stroking himself, almost absent mindedly. Or so I thought. Suddenly he turned to me and told me he wanted me to fuck the machine. I was comfortable, warm and happy doing what I was doing, but the idea did appeal. Plus, cock in hand, he was half way out of bed. I rushed to get the machine from the room next door and within moments was hovering above the condom covered dildo. Briefly I stroked my slick vulva, already wet with anticipation and then sat down on the silicone cock. It felt good.
“Go on girl, fuck the machine” He grinned, perching on the end of the bed. I rocked, using the handle to help me ride the thing like a rodeo horse. The dildo moved in and out of me as I rode forward and back. All the time he was stroking himself, and egging me on. He told me I was a slave to the machine, and so I was.
Reaching for his camera, he told me to look at him. It was easy to see that he had me just where he wanted me. I was on the edge of orgasm, the pleasure seeping from every orifice, the pleasure showing in my face. Photos of my face would show me heavy eyed, lustful, lost in my submission as I listened for instructions. The photos he took showed something else, though expressive in themselves.
Afterwards he fucked me on the bed. As is often the case, our masturbation session led to sex. And orgasms.
When I took this little selfie I had no idea that the target was slightly out of focus. But sometimes imperfections are just the right thing and today feels like one of those days. This is my nipple. It’s the only one I have and it is time to celebrate what I have, imperfections, blurriness and all.
As he takes pleasure from me his enjoyment is evident. He tells me he loves the taste of me. The feel of my clit and especially my piercing on his tongue as it explores my depths. At the same time, I am able to lie back and enjoy the sensations, the arousal as my clitoris hardens to his touch. The way my vaginal opening clenches around his fingers as he slides them in. The orgasm growing from within me as he finds my g-spot while all the time lapping at me like a cat. The enjoyment he receives is more than matched my the intense pleasure he gives me. And that is just the start.