I’m shooting more videos for Candi today. It’s been a while since I’ve had the opportunity too and I was momentarily wondering the other night if I’d have any ideas in mind or run out.
I needn’t have worried. A quick trip round the greengrocer and I was full of inspiration. I’m particularly looking forward to getting creative with the marrow I bought. There’s more than one way to ride an enormous vegetable when you have a filthy mind after all.
And it’ll be too loud to open the windows where we’re filming so I’ll just have to cool myself down with ice cubes on my clit again…
I always thought it was me who was the slow learner but Princess was definitely taking my crown yesterday. Very slow not to argue with my Master’s orders before I met her, she talked herself out of an afternoon orgasm and into a spanking instead.
I made her wait in anticipation though and took her out for coffee first then ordered her strip her panties off and lean across the arm of the sofa to be spanked. Twenty times on each cheek of her ass on his orders.
I just made her say ‘thank you sir’ in between each spank to really reinforce why she was on her sofa with her ass in the air instead of in her bed with my fist in her cunt instead. She didn’t miss a single one either as I made her ass glow red with my hand.
Which is why it was disappointing that she missed the chance to show my Master what she’d learned later when he got home from work. Generously allowing her to finally have her long awaited orgasm with my hand inside her and him fucking her throat, he carried on stretching her with his fist as she licked my cunt until she came again.
She did say thank you but there was no ‘sir’ on the end so he punished her by fucking her cunt with his fist all over again while I held the wand on her clit until she stretched further and came even harder. She didn’t miss her thank you properly that time trust me.
And while she was still undone from her third fist fucking orgasm in under an hour, my Master finished off by fucking her ruined cunt harder than I have ever seen someone been fucked before in my life.
I almost thought he might break her but the noise of him pounding her with his cock made me ridiculously wet again despite her having licked my cunt to several orgasms just before. It was the sound of a completely stretched cunt right there…
My Master has been giving me and Princess very detailed plans for today and tonight. I do love being given an order so this already makes me feel calm and anticipatory for later.
Princess is much brattier and has managed to talk her way out of an orgasm this afternoon and into a spanking already. Part of me is amused when she rebels and part of me is turned on because it brings out the strictness in my Master which I so enjoy.
And it turns out there’s a bit of me that enjoys being strict too and disciplining her. She reacts so well to it at the time and yet still never quite learns enough not to do it again next time.
This means I look forward to seeing what I can come up with this afternoon when I’m in charge of her, but even more as to what my Master will do this evening. He’s in the mood to wait and take his two sluts out dressed up to show them off first which is a sign he’s plotting something.
That should make for an interesting evening and an fun blog post tomorrow…
So I was complaining that total strangers call me a slut and then I get reminders why they do sometimes.
I don’t think anyone could argue that I’m not slutty and while I’m surprisingly subtle at times, it’s like certain men especially can spot it at a few paces. I quite enjoy the challenge of that as I stand my ground, refusing to show any shame and giving them neither encouragement nor denial.
I think that will be my tactic if anyone I know in person ever recognises me as Candi. No shock, no feigned surprise, no acknowledgement but a sneaking enjoyment in the fact the person in front of me just out themselves as kinky and a fan of fisting.
But today’s reminder that I am slutty came when I went into my local branch of Superdrug (to buy razors to keep my cunt smooth for my Master no less) and I set the security alarm off on the way in.
The security guard asked to search my bag and we tried to work out what it might be. It wasn’t the lipstick or the hairspray, but was the emergency bottle of lube I carry so that I’m ready to fist myself in public at any time on my Master’s orders. Turns out despite some enthusiastic use, it still had the security tag on from when I bought it at the self service till.
Watching the security guard’s face as he realised I did in fact have a partly used bottle of lube in my bag as casually as I carry make up or my Kindle amused me greatly. He went from slightly shocked and embarrassed to that mix of impressed and trying to see if he could make me blush quite quickly.
If I can hold my head up without a flicker of mortification when a pretty butch security guard in a museum saw the Belladonna Bitch Fist toy in my bag and knew exactly what it was, a bottle of lube barely made my eye blink.
But maybe I need to remind myself more often it isn’t just my Master who can spot sluttiness and that’s why he’s trained Candi like he has…
I have always hated the word slut. Growing up in Ireland it was originally associated with being the kind of woman who didn’t keep her house clean enough to get married and be respectable.
Then when I was a teenager it took on the more sexual term most people knew that you weren’t a nice girl. You were cheap and not worth respect if you were a slut. It was a word designed to shame and isolate.
But at the same time I knew I was a slut and that those people were in the wrong about what the word meant. Being slutty was a part of me in the same way that having pale skin was. It was inbuilt and it didn’t mean I wasn’t worth being valued.
I just liked having lots of sex with lots of people all of whom I was capable of treating well in return and I couldn’t understand why so many people see sexual preferences as some indicator of morality.
I never quite grew to be ashamed of being a slut, but I became conflicted about feeling like I should be. I definitely restricted some of my sexual behaviour the more I was viewed that way and resented that I did.
So the first time my Master called me slut, I bristled. The second time he did it, I didn’t mind. The third time I liked it because I knew his motivation wasn’t to shame, but to congratulate.
Now when he calls me slut it feels like an achievement and it makes me practically purr like a cat getting its head stroked. I love the recognition of something that is an essential part of me.
But he’s only person who can call me slut. He’s earned it after all. Yet it doesn’t stop a number of strange men in the street using the word as I walk past. Walking home last night at 7pm in a long sleeved top and trousers, one man called me a ‘slutty bitch’ and another whistled and called me ‘slut’.
I was incensed. Not only did it remind me of those people who use the word to shame women, but it insults my Master’s property now. I just grit my teeth when it happens and remind myself that men who shame women lose out by not getting the full fun of their slutty behaviour and that’s perfect punishment….
One of the most interesting things for me about beginning a D/s relationship with my Master is that it’s the first time I’ve consistently had sex sober.
This is not to say that all the fucking I’d done before had been when I was drunk. My liver would after all have given up if it was. But a lot of my sexual encounters involved men I’d met in bars and parties and clubs and there was usually drink taken if not actually drunkenness.
Part of that is that 99% of the time I’m a good drinker. I get more relaxed, a lot smilier and more confident to flirt. I enjoy the social lubrication of drinking (I am Irish after all) and quite often drinking puts me in the mood to fuck.
Unfortunately it probably also made me less discerning about who I fucked. Even small amounts of alcohol don’t always make for fantastic decision making and bearing in mind I tend to think with my cunt most of the time anyway, I think we can say no one would give me a prize for my decision making around men if left to my own devices.
This is a huge advantage in my relationship with my Master of course. He doesn’t leave it my own devices. He makes decisions for me and tells me what to do and it works extremely well. I trust him implicitly. Much more than I trust myself in fact.
He also holds me to higher standards than most men did. I may be submissive to him sexually but it’s extremely interactive. There’s no letting my mind wander or lying back and thinking of England. He pushes me physically and emotionally when we’re fucking and very early on I realised alcohol for me is incompatible with that.
I tend to avoid any booze around him if it’s likely we’ll have sex (although I very much enjoyed finishing a threesome recently with him sending Princess to bring our pink fizz in bed.) But I couldn’t resist taking Princess out for cocktails the other night before fucking her.
Much less about the drinks than the delayed gratification of sitting in public imagining what would happen in private, the alcohol did make it feel different. I was slightly more relaxed but I felt less able to focus and less able to pay full attention to detail toward her.
I also found it harder to come and quite frankly there’s no cocktail on earth that’s more enjoyable than an orgasm. I’ll stick to being sober and submissive instead…
So, as if I didn’t have enough to occupy myself right now with my Master and Princess, he has suggested I find another female submissive to train up.
I’m excited enough about the idea to have posted an ad on Craigslist but also slightly apprehensive about training someone neither of us know as well as conflicted about having sex with another woman when I’m so enjoying getting to know Princess.
My main question in my head when I was posting the ad was wondering if I’ll have a type in women. What will be the things I find attractive in another woman? Will Princess influence my tastes or will each woman be individual to themselves on looks and personality?
I have to some extent had a type in men, more in personality than looks per se. A friend who knew about my slutty ways years ago once teased me that I could get away with my behaviour because no one would ever guess what all these very different looking men had in common.
Meeting my Master turned my type on its head a bit but in a good way. I had never stopped to think if I was choosing the right men for me, but basically following what my cunt reacted to. Fun, but not especially helpful long term.
My Master ticks several physical things I seem to have a type for, but he completely confounded my tendencies on personality and age and I suspect that forcing me to stop just mindlessly following patterns is one of the reasons it’s working so well.
So I’m intrigued how my brain and body will react to women. I do know that my taste runs to femme women but I don’t yet have any preference to hair colour or body shape or race.
I’m guessing therefore that I can get away with watching all the girls go by from behind my sunglasses in the sunny weather in London right now. It’s not creepiness, it’s research for a task…