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!

Resetting our relationship dynamic

All relationships change over time. After the first flush of excitement of a new relationship we settle into a routine. But over time, physical and/ or emotional needs will alter and this can lead to problems. One aspect of a power exchange relationship that is usually different from vanilla, is communication. For us, listening and watching for signs that things aren’t right has been fundamental.

The start

It’s nearly 6 years since Master and I got together. Those initial months were spent getting to know each other and working out the rules of our relationship. By that I don’t just mean those set our within our dynamic. But also the unwritten, unsaid stuff that makes you a couple. We didn’t live together, but gradually we began to spend most weekends together. Then to go out in the week if something came up.

Master bought me items of fetish clothing or new toys and introduced them for play and sex, and gradually there were changes to our dynamic. Going out without panties or a bra. Wearing sexier clothing or dressing up for him, was all new at the time.

The first reset came when Master decided to end his relationship with his primary slave. Before that we had assumed that our relationship would only survive in that form until his slave joined him from America. When we knew that wouldn’t happen, we settled into forming a more lasting connection.

A collar and commitment

Master collared me once we were both sure that we wanted to commit to each other. Also that we were free to do so, our previous relationships firmly in the past. Wearing his collar affirmed my status, to us but also to others. Other signs, such as my piercings came earlier, but it was the collar that signified his ownership. My slavery.

We have always led a busy social life, travelled and of course I was working. Reminding ourselves of the need to reset, to remember that we were Master and slave was necessary. Rules tended to slip. The submission that I had felt so keenly at the beginning often felt out of reach. Taking the time to talk about what we wanted and needed was important. But also finding time and energy for play was equally important.

That’s how we came to attend local Munches regularly and eventually get to a kink club for play. They provide a timely reminder of that aspect of our life.

Living together

We both assumed that when I moved in, we would at last get the opportunity to be the Master / slave that we had always imagined. To some extent that has been true. However we failed to factor in the changes that would occur due to my breast cancer.

In some ways being his slave allowed me to rely on Master in a way I might previously found intolerable. He wanted to care for me, but not smother me. Of course, that might be his personality. But equally the depth of communication between us helped at appointments and afterwards.

Looking back I see that the romantic idea of me being the sex and house slave of fiction was just that. Actually our relationship has rarely been about bondage, pain and nakedness, but instead control and ownership. It is he who makes the final decisions, and it is me who needs to be sure I am conducting myself in the way he prefers. I am now a kept woman and he has some financial control over me, though I do still have some money and spend it as I wish. But I don’t make large purchases without discussion. There are no secrets in this relationship, this is not a rule but it feels that having them would be wrong. A fundamental breach of what our relationship is about.

Our sex life is kinky, as it always was. Now though we have more time for sex. Our preference is in the morning, and we are in a fortunate position that we can indulge that. To outsiders we seem as we always have. We are a couple, partners. Adjustments from now will hopefully be small. But no doubt we will reset as we move on. I think that healthy relationships need that to continue.

tellmeabout

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. 

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

On display

As the red velvet curtains opened, the stage  slowly revolved.  The slave’s limbs were firmly secured to a St Andrew’s Cross by fur lined leather cuffs. Her mouth filled with a ball gag secured behind her head. With wide eyes focused on her audience, her mind flashed back an hour.

Master had led her on a leash, naked into the small empty theatre. This place reminiscent of a venue they had visited on her birthday.  A circular stage surrounded by 20-30 seats they had sat in the midst of the action. The actors had weaved in and out of the audience making it an intimate, immersive experience. This was how the idea had formed in Master’s mind.

Now though, the seats were filled with smartly dressed men and women, the Dominants. At their feet an equal number of naked submissive people. As the stage slowly rotated and slave realised she knew everyone. Some were mere acquaintances and others true special friends to them both.

Master stepped up to the applause of the group and approached his slave. Tears filled her eyes as he began to stroke her with the fingers of both hands. Starting at her shoulders, moving down her arms, onto her tummy, up to her breasts, circling the nipples. Finally he placed the fingers of his left hand between her legs and stroked the wet, throbbing pussy then leant down to suck her right nipple. She squirmed, bucking her hips towards his fingers. The stage stopped moving.

Standing up he leaned towards her left ear and whispered.

“Darling slave girl, your fantasies are about to be realised” Spit filled her mouth as she tried to speak, to ask what he meant. He grinned and took a vibrating wand in his hand and pushed it into her throbbing pussy and beckoned to a man in the audience. He in turn nodded to the girl at his feet and she stood up, walked purposefully to the stage, stepped up and as previously instructed dropped to her knees.

Master removed the wand and the girl crawled close to the slave. She leaned up and her tongue circled the clitoris of her subject. Slave’s juices began to gush forth, only to be lapped up.

Slave focused on her grinning Master and nodded. Whatever her resovations, Master knew just what she needed.  On display, secured to the cross, her previously identified boundaries pushed to the limit. Safe in the knowledge that they shared a secret safe code she nodded again.

Master turned away and invited their friend Ross to take up a flogger and begin the show.
Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

The Power

Much of our sex happens in the morning. There are age related reasons for this, I think it is called ‘morning glory’. But also tiredness at the end of the day (mostly on my part I must add). The past few weeks have been a little lean on the sex front. Low level illness, tiredness, lethargy; we seem to have suffered from them all. This morning something different happened though.

I had been awake for a while, checking Facebook and twitter, reading the news. As he woke, I put my phone down, mainly because it was going to run out of battery soon. He grabbed his phone (what happening people we are), and looked first at the cricket news (a mountain to climb for England by all accounts). But then moved on to more interesting stuff. He moved my hand onto his flaccid cock and as he read / viewed his Tumblr feed I helped get things moving. It didn’t take long for it to spring to life, I kept going. Looking at me he told me that he wanted my cunt; music to my ears.

I was a little dry and tight as his cock pushed in. But with some lubricant spit all was well. It felt so good to be filled by his cock again. Just as I told him I didn’t need an orgasm he began his count down. After the count of 10,  it turned out I wanted and needed to cum. Moving on top of him I was permitted two more. He loves to be able to feel my tits, to play with my clit, to tease and to control me. Being on top is perfect for me too and gives the chance to alter position, get more or less penetration.

Snuggling up a few minutes later he told me how things had played out for him this morning. Having me get him hard and want him while he looked at porn made him want to take me. At that moment he just wanted to shoot a load into me. But once he began to push his way in and found me tight, as soon as he made me cum on command, the feeling of power and control took over. At the same time the submission, that sometimes feels so dormant, reappears with a flourish. That is our power dynamic.

O is for………

Orgasms and ownership

Master is a generous man. While Master owns this girl and her orgasms, he loves to see her cum and so permits her to experience lots of them. This photo taken on Saturday morning signified that 11 had been permitted (2 on Friday night and the rest on Saturday morning).

The idea of ownership and possession of another human being is not something to be taken lightly and it remains a source of wonder to this girl that she so readily agreed to this course of action. There is something about the knowledge that Master wishes to have total control, that is extremely arousing. What is more, it makes this girl feel wanted, valued, and needed. All of these feelings are important to this girl. But more than that, they make her feel happy in her own body for maybe the first time in her life. This is what she needs from her relationship with Master – the ability to express her submission to him and this is something that she can do on a daily basis whether we are together or not. There is always a way to demonstrate that she is slave and He is Master, that she is owned.

Masturbation (and sex) on Monday

Masturbation Monday is a year old today. Congratulations to Kayla Lords for coming up with the idea. In celebration here is this girl’s contribution.

It’s a bank holiday here in the UK. Wonderful, time to relax and enjoy the end of summer, lovely sunny days soon to end. For us, here in the UK it seems that summer is already ended and this morning when Master and girl woke it was dull, cool and rainy out. But every rain cloud has a silver lining, as a holiday means no work for this girl and so the chance to drift back to sleep. At some point, reasonably early in the morning, Master began to stroke his girl between her legs. “You like this don’t you slut?” He asked. Of course she likes it, who wouldn’t. The girl lay back and enjoyed the feelings wash over her, allowed herself to relax into His touch and arousal to sweep around her body. She knew her clitoris was enlarging as it became engorged and that she was becoming wet to His touch. The idea of cumming didn’t occur to her and He didn’t suggest she could or should. Instead they both drifted back to sleep. The girl was pretty sure that without Master’s touch that  might not have happened.

The next time we woke, the phone was ringing. It was around 10.30am and it was this girl’s mum. Luckily the girl came to her senses pretty quickly and any way she mostly only had to listen to the updates of mum’s weekend – the films she has watched, the food she has eaten, that kind of exiting stuff. Finishing the call though, she looked across to Master who was busy looking at porn on His phone, while quietly masturbating Himself. A few minutes later and this girl looked at Master – He was now making the bed shake – He informed her that he was getting Himself hard enough to fuck her arse. 
Still horny from the earlier masturbation, this girl shivered with anticipation. “Roll over girl” He commanded and soon after His now very hard cock was taking possession of what it rightfully His. This girl felt herself getting lightheaded as He pounded inside her. She found herself unable to stop herself pressing back towards Him rhythmically as He took a break. He squeezed her nipple, playing with the piercing as He loves to do. Those piercings which were done for Him. The nipples that belong to Him. Master and this girl felt the power in His touches which brought this girl to orgasm. 
A little later, this girl was given her prize. One that Master allowed her to swallow. 
She lay back in His arms, snuggling to him for warmth on this cool end of August morning. He asked her how she was feeling. “light headed and slave like” was her response.
“I like it when my slave is light headed because of me” For Him it is all about the power and the control. For this girl it is too.