Talking dirty

I’m not a vocal person when I’m having sex. But just because I don’t scream with pleasure, doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying it. Nor does it mean that I am not aroused or not about to come. Given the choice I would internalise all of the feelings I have about what I am doing and just allow them to wash over me. But I don’t really have the choice, since Master demands a reaction from me. During sex he will be talking dirty and when he does, I do too.

Running commentary

Master likes to tell me exactly what he is doing to me and how it is making him feel. If his cock is deep inside me he will let me know how deep it is and how wet I am. These tend to be things I already know, but the fact he is telling me concentrates my mind. He loves to talk about breeding me, which is something I would have liked too, if we had met sooner. This is one of his fantasies and I actually find it reassuring, it shows he loves me that much.

Much of what he says though could be described as both dirty and degrading, if you were of that mind. He call’s me a bitch and a slut and asks me who I am and if I am his. He derives enormous power from the things I say to him, that I am his slave, his pleasing bitch, his slut. You see I am not just any bitch or slut, but HIS and that is what is important. His dominance over me is confirmed for him when I am talking dirty to him, especially as my natural stat is not to speak at all. This confirms his power and authority and in that moment he is not only my Master, but my Lord too.

How talking dirty feels to me

When I tell Master that I am his pleasing bitch it reaffirms my submission. Reminds me of the slave I agreed to be and am. It helps me to focus on him and on nothing else and to remember who is the boss here. I am a consenting and willing participant, but he is in charge and calls the shots. I am there to please him, to be the slut he wants and needs. Uttering those words puts me into a space I don’t tend to inhabit all of the time.

That means that while most of our dirty talk takes place in the bedroom, or perhaps playroom there are other times. He might come up behind me, hold me and whisper in my ear: “who’s bitch are you” and of course I will answer that I am his. He rarely calls me Julie, but instead girl. This is all part of his belief that I remember my submission better if I am constantly reminded of it. Knowing that I am this girl really does focus me. And when he calls me bitch or slut instead of girl, my cunt clenches and submission becomes sexual arousal. Which I guess is all part of what I am and who I am. Master’s Pleasing Bitch, sex slave to her Master.

Explore

This journey of exploration started almost 7 years ago. Knowing I wanted more from life and from sex I dived head first into a world of infidelity, kinky sex, submission and BDSM. Given that Master and I will have been together for 5 years on February 1st this seems a good time to explore what I have learned along the way.

Great sex can’t save a relationship, but bad or no sex can help destroy one

One of the key drivers that led me to stray from my marriage was our almost non existent sex life. That and the fact I didn’t really fancy him any more. I had only had sex with one man and wanted to explore that side of me. Outside of the constraints of that relationship I discovered a whole new world. My husband had quite a low sex drive, and suddenly I was with a man who demanded so much more. I had never had sex that lasted most of the night, rarely sucked a cock and had never actually enjoyed it. Then of course there was the anal sex.

In the long term, a relationship can’t be sustained on sex alone. It wasn’t that S and I didn’t get on together, because we did. We enjoyed doing things together, but differed on expectations of what life might give us. I do enjoy the finer things in life and he was something of a cheapskate (irrespective of whether he had the money to spend or not). I don’t mind admitting I found him something of a know all, sometimes without substance. What’s more we had different ideas about where we were heading and in the end he made the decision for me.

There was no turning back though once I had enjoyed a healthy sex life. So the end of that relationship also proved to be the beginning of the end of my marriage.

Don’t assume you know everything about D/s on the basis of a single relationship

I emerged from the relationship with S imagining I knew everything there was to know. Also that I was more experienced than I actually was. However, what I did know was that I am submissive and want and need someone to give me structure and control.

Within days of meeting Master, I discovered that not all dominants are the same. The intensity of play I experienced on our first few play dates were more than I had known, but I wasn’t phased by it. Maybe in hindsight I should have been and perhaps I should have been more cautious.

However, for the second time I was lucky that I met someone both experienced and kind. We both thought the relationship would be quite casual, but found ourselves attracted in ways that we hadn’t expected.

Polyamory is not for everyone

I’ve never considered myself to be a jealous person, but it turns out I can be. It is also possible for someone you have never met to make your life almost unbearable. If I had known how upset our relationship would make Master’s LDR slave I am not sure he and I would have met in real life. We entered the relationship fully aware of each other, but it didn’t take long for jealousy to raise its head. I’d like to be able to say that it was all her, but really it wasn’t.

We brought out the worst in each other. Both of us wanting to be the most important person in our man’s life. Most of our attempts to engage with each other ended in one or other getting upset. If he had decided to continue with their relationship, ours would have ended. Her mental illness seemed to be projected upon me and I was becoming needy in a way that I had never experienced. I’d like to think that I could share Master with the right other person if he wanted. But I am not sure I could especially if it turned into something long term. Play partners though, that might be something different. But then that is exactly what I was meant to be!

Being owned is just right for me and for us

I have written before about the power Master feels knowing that he owns and controls me. And I revel in the knowledge that I am his slave, owned by him. In many ways we are coming full circle.

In the beginning, when things were new, I often stated that I could feel my submission so clearly that I could almost touch it. That was partly due to the effects of subspace, which was new to me. Being given multiple orgasms and receiving impact play are just two ways this can occur. It puts me into an almost trance like state, leaving the normal world and associated problems elsewhere. This feeling then extended into our life outside the bedroom. Each episode had a beginning and end, usually when one of us went home and normal life resumed. Sometimes I worried about being too needy, especially when we weren’t together.

Now, we spend each day and night together. Our apart time is short, though of course it happens. My submissive feelings aren’t reliant on orgasms, impact play or being told to kneel because they are part of who I am. He is naturally dominant with me. He owns me and what he says goes. Increasingly, I can defer to him, not because of neediness but because I am his property, his responsibility. This gives him the sense of power and it makes me feel safe and protected.

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Discovery

Week 2 of the Erotic Journal challenge is about the discovery of our sexuality and ourselves as sexual beings. This week’s Wicked Wednesday is about the technical aspects of sex. This post will attempt to combine the two.

The beginning

I first met my future husband when he moved to live opposite us. He was 11 and I was 7. Our mothers were friendly, though not exactly friends. However we did play in each others houses when one of the mums visited for a cuppa. By the time I was a teenager and he was leaving school our mums both worked and so any contact was pretty accidental. I did like him, but he wasn’t one of the boys I fancied back then, they tended to go to my school and he had gone elsewhere.

Soon before my 16th birthday, during the half term before my o’levels he phoned and asked me over to his place to sun bathe. It was a hot May day and his family were out, we sat in the garden and chatted. I didn’t take much account of the heat of the sun and returned home a little burnt. The next day he took me to London for the day. We had fun, walked miles and ate strawberries and ice cream. My usually good appetite deserted me and my tummy was full of butterflies, all day long. The aroma of the soap he used and the aftershave he wore was very alluring. This was the first boy who I think turned me on without actually touching or kissing me. Though of course, within days there were kisses.

Over the ensuing months we spent a lot of time together, both out with friends and on our own and in doors. Spending time in my bedroom alone together was pretty much frowned on and anyway I had an annoying younger brother who tended to burst in. But his parents seemed more relaxed about things. So we often spend hours in his room, lying on the bed listening to music. We never took off all of our clothes but did strip down to underwear, touch and kiss.

“Don’t come back pregnant”

I would lie with his leg between mine and he would flex his quadricep muscle. This believe it or not, was enough to get me off, though I’m not sure if I actually orgasmed. I touched him outside and inside his pants and found the whole thing pretty daring. But we didn’t attempt to have sex. I was pretty happy with what we were doing and didn’t feel the need for more right then.

When I was 17 we decided to take a holiday to Jersey. My parents weren’t overly keen on us going away on our own, but didn’t try to stop us. But on the departure day as we were leaving my mum came to me as I finished packing. “Your dad isn’t happy about you going away with B and all I can say is please don’t come pregnant”

I was pretty indignant. She didn’t know if we were sexually active or not and I didn’t take kindly to the suggestion I was stupid enough to get pregnant. B and I slept together, but didn’t attempt to have sex. The holiday though was fabulous, mainly because we could do what we wanted without parents being present.

The challenges of having sex

In October 1980, another year later, I went off to begin my nursing career. We all lived in tiny rooms in the nurses home and were watched upon by a hawk of a home sister. She was a spinster, who had spent her entire career in nursing and later managing the home. Boyfriends could visit but were meant to be out by midnight. However there were ways to smuggle people in and out and so we ignored that rule.

B was a frequent visitor especially at weekends. At last a door that could be closed and locked. Reasonably thick walls and some anonymity. At last, after 2 years together we finally took the plunge and had actual sex with penetration. Well we tried to anyway, since our first couple of attempts were failures. I owned no toys and had never so much as slipped my own fingers into my vagina. I am not even sure he had either and when it came to trying to sick his hard cock inside me we struggled. We had no real idea about positions or what might work for us and less idea about how difficult (or easy) it should be.

I resorted to consulting with my closest student friend who was already engaged to a sailor and she offered me some friendly advice. Essentially to keep trying and not get frustrated. The following weekend we tried again. Helped along by a bottle of wine and the knowledge that we needed to relax more, eventually we made it happen.

Sex during marriage

Looking back, sex with B wasn’t all it could have been. Soon after we married I bought a copy of the joy of sex which at least offered some help on positions. We tried many and had fun doing so, but I often felt I could take or leave it. My nursing job was demanding and I worked shifts. Even when I was in the mood, there seemed to be something missing but I didn’t know what it was. Within 4 or 5 years he was having an affair with an older woman which for a while helped us, since he had learned some new techniques. But when I discovered the affair my view of him changed. I never again trusted him and I was somehow turned off by him. We carried on having sex for the remainder of our marriage, but not for enjoyment.

When I was in my 30’s I bought my first sex toys and had my first real orgasms. But these happened when I was alone or when he was asleep rather than as something we shared.

I was almost 50 when I first orgasmed during PIV sex and since then I haven’t really looked back sexually. I feel sad about my sex life with B and that we were never able to fulfil each other in the way we should. Perhaps we were never really compatible as sexual partners. Or perhaps the mistake was in carrying on past our 20s. But I don’t regret meeting him or marrying him or having a child together. I just wish we had been better at communicating and been more honest about our needs. Thankfully he has also found someone new and I hope their sex life is better than ours ever was.

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Then and now

So many people have commented and indeed congratulated me on my strength. It is true that I have surprised even myself on how I have coped. Much of it is to do with my personality, the no fuss and drama me (though I can create both when provoked). Also because I like to have information before panicking and try to be optimistic in these matters. But make no mistake having breast cancer was the worst and scariest thing I have ever had to face. Losing one of my lovely breasts has been terrible, I morn it every day. In this post I will try to explain my then and now. There is no need to be sorry about any of this, I don’t need sympathy, just the chance to tell.

Then

Until pregnancy I was quite small busted, but while pregnant they grew and never went down. I always had a good cleavage and many people, men and women have admired it. High necked clothes don’t suit me, my face and neck look too fat in them. I prefer a lower cut dress or top. My bras were all plunging, not padded as they made me look bigger than I wanted, but underwired for support. Not that I was sagging especially; I was told I had great tits for my age (former relationship) and great tits full stop (this one). To me, with my expanding middle and puckered hips, my tits were my best asset.

Then

Once I gained confidence with my blog and began posting pictures of myself, they were often of my breasts. My pierced nipples, me bulging out of a leather waistcoat or wearing a leather harness. Master called them my jugs and played with them a lot. My nipples, especially the right were very sensitive and I have had nipple orgasms more than once. To me my breasts were my best asset and I am fucking angry and mightily sad that I now only have one.

Now

The skin around the wound is soft and smooth, but the scar line itself is kind of puckered with little folds. The area under my arm remains numb and puffy. No one can tell me if and when it will recover. I touch the wound area quite a lot. During the day the area under my bra gets hot and itchy and sometimes I can’t help but rub it. Obviously not out in public but in the comfort of my living room. Lying in bed too, I stroke it. You see, most of the time I can’t really tell I don’t have a boob there and of course neither can anyone else.

I have a silicone prosthesis that fits inside my bra, it looks (and feels according to master) pretty realistic. But you can’t wear this kind of thing with a skimpy bra with a plunging cleavage. This means that I have bought several new bras, but not thrown any of the 15 or more old ones I have away. However I may soon move them into a box under the bed for the future (see below).

Master still loves to play with the breast and nipple on the left side. He strokes and nibbles, pulls and pinches. He also strokes the place where my right one used to be. But it isn’t the same. Even when I am aroused by what he is doing, I am thinking of what I have lost. His fingers on my wound area and surroundings are pleasant, but there is no sexual arousal from it. Instead he concentrates on the left and my other erogenous zones.

Now

The biggest challenge for me now though is looking at other people’s tits. While I still love to look at everyone’s Sunday and other day blog and twitter posts. I can’t help but feel a twinge when I see a lovely pair of tits staring out at me. Likewise looking at old photos of myself makes me happy that I have so many, but sad that there will be no more like them. I also find myself looking for signs of the cancer within, of course there was never any sign.

Future

I know these feelings will pass. It has, after all only been 3 months since the operation and my treatment won’t be completed until the end of this month.

In the future I hope to have a breast reconstruction. To be able to show two breasts to myself, to Master and this little area of the world would be wonderful. I know any reconstructed breast won’t be the same. It is likely that the surgeon will have to reduce the size of the left one, so I would be smaller than before. But I know it is what I want. To be able to wear any bra, or to be able to go braless. Summer days with no bra, that has to be something to aim for.

Before that, well I will try to be as body positive as I can. But don’t imagine that this has been easy or that it ever will be again. I loved my boobs and I will have to learn to love having one again.

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Our dynamic

Our relationship dynamic, Master / slave can be described as a total power exchange. I, the submissive person have given control for much of my life to my Dominant partner. This has been a gradual process over a period of almost 5 years. While working and living in my own house I always retained at least some responsibility for my needs. While there has been no visible change since I moved in with Master I sense a growth in his power over me, and my submission too.

For many people practicing BDSM is a part time pursuit, something that takes place in the bedroom, a club or dungeon. Where each takes a role, for the duration of that session. There may be rope, or impact play, one might take a dominate role and the other the bottom or submissive. Even perhaps, roles are switched depending on mood and partner. In the early days, we intended our relationship to be more about play. But it soon became clear that we wanted and needed something more. Once he had asked me to be his slave and we had begun to negotiate what that might mean, there was no looking back.

Over the past couple of weeks as the old year came to an end and this new one has started I have been reflecting on our relationship. This has partly come about through writing my end of year blog posts. But also because I have been doing some thinking and reading. Master also bought me a new collar, and just yesterday a ring arrived for my regular one. This will enable him to be able to use a lead more when we are playing.

Thoughts on my submission

Living here with Master has enabled me to give more control of my life to him. Before, I always felt I must retain control financially and of family situations. There was also work, which of course came with responsibilities. Although I am still making decisions about what I want to do, I am doing less telling and more asking about them. I have my own money and I can and do spend it. But we are living in his house and there is more dependence on my part. While this may have scared the life out of me in the past, it no longer does. Indeed it fills me with pleasure.

My illness has shown me that it is ok to rely on another for support and yes, decision making. But the funny thing is, I don’t feel the need to take the control I have given up back from him. Indeed, I can see myself giving up more and more. This is strange, since I didn’t even realise I had more to give.

For a long time I have resisted some of the signs of submission Master asked for. Ones related to dress (wearing underwear), my hair length and getting a tattoo, spring to mind, but there are others. It feels though that this year I should take the plunge and open myself up to becoming the slave I know he desires.

Thoughts on his dominance

Power is the major driver for Master. When we play, it is the very fact that my body reacts in the way it does, to his body and the toys he uses, that drives him. During sex, he loves that he can control me and my orgasms. He loves that he can call me names such as bitch and it excites me. Me being his property is something that we both acknowledge and that enables his dominance to shine though. In those moments I am slave, MPB, this girl.

When I gave myself to him totally I also gave my limits. We had agreed what they were and as we moved along the power exchange continuum I realised that he could and should own them. I can still call red (though I haven’t) and he will stop. My consent has been given for Master to make the decisions in the bedroom, playroom and in life. But importantly this is reaffirmed regularly. He does so in such a way that I must state that my limits belong to him and uttering those words make him feel more dominant. Nothing makes me happier.

I know this isn’t a relationship for everyone. I didn’t even know it was for me and indeed I do question it myself from time to time. But 2019 definitely feels like the year for an exploration into how far this dynamic might take us.

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Look into my eyes

I am not a great fan of intense eye contact in any context. But I do struggle with people who avoid it all together. I worked with someone once who would launch into long monologues at meetings and training events and simultaneously close her eyes as she did it. I found that distinctly unsettling, especially if she was sitting near me, or referring to something I had said. Some eye contact in a work or social situation is important. It helps you to know whether people mean what they say, if they are telling the truth or a lie. What is more, some people have very attractive eyes, ones that change colour depending on the situation.

When it comes to intimate moments including sex, I am a fan of closing my eyes. S is the only person I have encountered who seemed to stare when kissing or during sex. His gaze was piercing and at times unnerving. A little bit like the woman with the closed eyes. Of course I never kissed or had sex with her!

Master mostly closes his eyes too when we kiss. After almost 5 years we know each other well enough that we don’t need to keep our eyes open all of the time. But there are times when he will insist I open my eyes and look into his. This is particularly the case when he is in the process of forcing an orgasm from me.

As he counts me down and tells me to cum, he will insist I meet his gaze. I have to concentrate as I prefer to immerse myself in the orgasm rather than meet his eyes. But of course I do as I am told as I am (usually) a very good girl. So if he says – “Look at me when you orgasm” I do. He loves the power involved in making me do what I would rather not. I guess that is part of the Dominant hold he has over me and why I am his submissive.

Reflections

This is a time of year for celebration, but also reflection. My blog has been pretty reflective of late, but that doesn’t stop me joining in. This week’s Food For Thought Friday asks the following questions:

When do you feel happiest in your skin?

Whatever the problems of the past few months, I am pretty happy. There are no specific pressures on me and my time. We are spending more time together and there have been few arguments. Over time, we have settled into a routine and things are easy going. It is good to know that we don’t have to go away from home to be together, but do like to do so. Some of our happiest times have been while travelling and there is a lot more of that to look forward to in 2019.

How do you maintain balance in your life? Is there anything you need to change?

Not really. As anyone who reads my blog regularly will know, there have been a lot of changes over the past year or two. It felt as if I was talking about my move for ever, but now it has happened. We have a balanced life and plan to keep it just that way. 

What has been a particularly challenging situation that you have faced? How did you handle it? What did you learn from it?

The break up of my marriage was extremely challenging. Taking place over a protracted period meant that it was very stressful. There are many things that could have been done differently. I should have been clearer with my husband when I no longer wanted to be with him. But managing the emotions of a grown man at the same time as working out how to move forwards is not easy. We are still married to each other and that is the next job. But because he is now living with his new partner in what was our house I believe he is ready for divorce. It has taken over 5 years to get to this place and that is far too long. 

What does it mean to live authentically?

I guess living authentically means being true to yourself and those around you. For so long I lived something of a lie. Even though I knew I was unhappy, I did nothing about it. Fear of being alone and of what others might say, led me to stay in an unhappy relationship. But I can now say that has changed. Family don’t know the nature of the relationship Master and I have, but that doesn’t feel like an issue. We love and care about each other and all can see that. But there is no need to go into details, anyway they definitely wouldn’t understand. 

What are the things that inspire you and how do they work for you?

I am inspired by some of the great writers and bloggers around and I have a desire to try to emulate some of them. Also the way in which people manage to juggle different aspects of their lives. However, I have no desire to continue to be the person I was. There is no longer any need for me to have a full-time job, I have no children to bring up, house to run and family to keep happy. To coin a phrase; been there, done that!

If you could change something about yourself, what would it be?

If I could turn the clock back I would get myself to the doctor more quickly and get the lump I had in my breast removed sooner. Then I could have had a lumpectomy and not mastectomy. But, there is no guarantee that those few weeks would have made a difference. In future though, I will put myself before work, packing up a house and all the other things that made me delay. 

The thing that I would like to change though is my weight. 2019 has to be the year I get to grips with shedding some pounds. I’ve been attending a slimming club for 4 years and am only a few pounds lighter than when I started. That is a waste of money. Though I have made some great friends there!

Time to be

Since I gave up work at the end of August I have had much more time just to be. To think, to write, to cook and to have sex. But to be honest, I haven’t really used the time I have to full advantage. There are many reasons for that.

Tiredness

It has been a busy year. Starting with my mum’s move in January at times I have been like a whirling dervish. Clearing out and packing up at her old house then helping her move was a crazy time. This was followed by clearing out and packing up at my place and then moving in with Master in July. By then I was working my notice and apart from a moving day, I had no holiday days left during that 3 month period. 

Since then I have had plenty time to rest. The enforced slow down brought on my my cancer diagnosis has been a blessing. For a few weeks I had little energy and lacked motivation. This was I imagine, my body’s way of telling me it needed to repair. So, I had little choice to give in. And it has served me well as I feel better in myself than I have done for ages. I don’t always sleep well at night, but now I can sleep in later this is less of a problem. I also feel less stressed about things like managing my mum. Indeed my illness has helped her to rely on me less. 

A new environment

It has taken time to get sorted in my new home. Master still has work to do in sorting out some of the clutter. This means that not all of my stuff has found its way from the garage to the house. But many of my kitchen gadgets are now in place and I intend to use them. When I brought the Christmas decorations in at the weekend I also found some cookery books. So, no excuse but to get cracking on producing more interesting things in the kitchen.

Blogging and writing

I have found the time to do more writing and have spent more time thinking before I write. For one thing, I have just completed a piece of paid (professional) work and am invoicing for that this week. I plan to look for some work in the spring, but am wondering how I might take a different approach. Whether in the future I could write for money rather than needing to work in an office environment. Certainly something to explore for the future. 

As for the blog, well the additional time means I am keeping up with writing regularly. The next thing though is to plan more. Having the headspace to think about writing is much more important than I realised. So when I am not writing, even if you can’t see anything I am thinking (unless I am on twitter, and then I am engaging). 

I have bought myself a freelance planner and will be using it for my writing plans, paid and unpaid. 

Sex and play

We have had more time for sex and in the main we have used it well. We have been more sexually active especially in the past few weeks. It is likely there will be a lull in the new year, when I have my radiotherapy treatment. But I am sure we will get back on track quickly. We have only played the once since August and that was at the fem sub social we went to a few weeks ago. We definitely need to make more time for play.

Travel

It is unusual for us that we haven’t been away since our time in Oxford post surgery. But we have plans to travel to warmer climbs as soon as the radiotherapy is finished. It feels a wonderful luxury to be able to do this  and not worry about time off work. We also have plans for an extended trip to France in the summer. 

I always imagined that after I stopped working time would drag. But it really doesn’t. Doing things at a slower pace and not rushing about help this. That isn’t to say that I don’t still have my moments. But I am enjoying having more time to just be me. 

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Power through control

He likes to exercise control over me and all aspects of his and our life. This really is who he is. While he will do things at my suggestion, I know he likes to come up with ideas first. Through the control he has over me, I know he feels power. He tells me that when he controls me he feels his domination and my submission. Sometimes, in the right situation this power arouses him sexually and in turn it does me too. 

It’s funny because in the past I hated to be out of control. To have others tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. Indeed in a work situation I can still get a little tetchy if I think someone is trying to control me. But over the last (almost) 5 years I have willingly given control to him. I have consented to be his slave and to allow him to make decisions on my behalf. 

There are 13 other posts on this blog labelled in the category of control. Most were written in the first year or two of our relationship. At a time when I was learning about my needs and of course his. Then I thought about control a lot. Recognising for the first time that there was no need to micromanage myself and everyone else around me. The key thing I recognise as I write this post today, is how far along this journey I have travelled. 

So often now, I don’t even worry about decision making. I just expect him to take the lead. He books concerts and theatre trips and puts them in the diary. He makes suggestions about places we might go and before I know what has happened we are on our way. Hotels are booked, sightseeing organised and quite often I just turn up, guide book in hand. But the strange thing is, it doesn’t feel like he is doing anything different or odd. There is no malice involved, just a desire to be the one that decides things. And I am pretty happy to just let that happen. 

In bed he willingly takes the lead. It isn’t that I can’t or don’t want to, but he just does it. Telling me to get on my knees can be so powerful, for us both. When he comes up behind me as I am standing at the window or in the kitchen and lays his hands on my shoulders or hips. I can feel the control he has over me, a physical and emotional thing. Something I can almost see and which I always know is there. 

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Inspiration and blocks – F4TF

I have kept a blog for probably 10 years, and have been writing this one for well over 5. In that time my content has ebbed and flowed. There is nothing like a new relationship or exciting situation to get the creative juices flowing. But at other times, inspiration is difficult to come by. What is more, it is a challenge to keep things fresh and to refrain from repeating yourself, too much.

This week’s Food For Though Friday is about Inspiration and blocks as a blogger. These are mine,

Where do the ideas for your content come from?

My blog has always been, and probably always will be predominantly about me and my life. So, if things are going very well or very badly, I will have no trouble thinking of something to write about. At other times, I rely on memes and prompts to help me along. 

I would love to write fiction, but really struggle with ideas for stories, whatever the genre. I don’t lack imagination, but unless it has happened, or I can see it happening to me I find it difficult to document. Perhaps years of writing factual reports for work has affected my ability to write fiction. When I was much younger, I wrote stories in long hand in exercise books. I no longer have them, so can’t really comment on quality, but I wasn’t short of ideas. They were often pretty erotic too. 

How do you get inspiration? Who or what inspires what you post?

We are so lucky to have other bloggers and writers to help provide inspiration to us within this community. There are so many talented people, thinking up ideas, running memes and competitions. Then there are those that participate, who inspire content and ideas. Some of my favourites: 

  • Molly’s memes – Sinful Sunday and Kink of the week as well as elust which provides a monthly list of top sex blog posts, reviewed and rated by their peers
  • Marie from Rebel’s Notes – Wicked Wednesday a weekly meme, Smut Marathon an erotic writing competition and Smut Relay a story being written by different bloggers over several months
  • Kayla Lords – Masturbation Monday, another weekly meme and her other projects including the Smutlancer and the Loving BDSM podcast
  • F4TF by Kilted Wookie – which I am participating in right now
  • All of the bloggers above also write their own posts which provide further thought and inspiration. 
  • At other times I have joined in with 30 days of submission or kink and other such memes that are more of a one off. 
  • Then there are bloggers who seem to have little difficulty with their own inspirations and are great at providing others with ideas. I especially enjoy reading May More, Cara Theron, Posy Churchgate and Floss
  • Of course there are more ways of being inspired, and there are others out there providing that inspiration. Sometimes it is just a matter of visiting and commenting and suddenly realising you have a whole post to write in response. 
How do you decide  what to share, and why?

I try write stuff that is interesting to me and also importantly my Master. If no one else finds it exciting, that is ok, because it is my blog and I am writing in the main for our benefit. Sometimes my writing becomes personal, such as is the case right now. At other times it is fun or frivolous. It isn’t always easy to want to write and to share personal things, sometimes it feels dull and boring. But for me it is about being true to myself. Not much of my life is hidden, but in the main I avoid mentioning exact locations, other people who prefer to remain anonymous, specific details about my work and of course family. Other than that, what you see is pretty much what you get.