Clean Cut

Princess often finds it irritating how every single day or week or month now seems to stand for something from National Apple Day to Bisexual Visibility Month to Honey Week (although I refuse to humour Steak and Blowjob Day until the sexist stereotypes fuck right off.)

But I was intrigued to see that September 4th is World Sexual Health Awareness Day because it’s a subject that still really needs talking about. In the last two weeks on Twitter alone I’ve seen people discussing a recent Durex campaign that insinuated you can tell who has a STI by looking because well turned intelligent people ‘aren’t like that’ and the frankly stigmatising site DaddyBear that assures you only HIV negative people can sign up.

STIs are also the first topic that comes up when the subject of polyamory or multiple partner relationships come up. A large number of people refuse to consider the validity of non monogamous relationships because apparently people in them are all disease ridden and therefore not to be afforded any respect.

I always blush slightly at that point because early on in my relationship with my Master in a yes, non monogamous relationship, I gave him chlamydia. Which I got from the married man I was fucking at the same time no less. A lack of care with condoms on my part showed me that ethical non monogamy and good old fashioned cheating don’t really mix.

But it also shows that passing on an STI is very often simple error, human nature and the power of bacteria and viruses to gatecrash even the best dates. I would always advise people to practise the best sexual health they can but not to beat themselves up if things go awry. In the same way you should wash your hands after using the toilet or take care with raw chicken, you wouldn’t consider yourself dirty and inferior if you passed the cold or food poisoning on to your partner.

Yet there is a real feeling of shame in society for people who have STIs as if those diseases make you morally inferior. There is something problematic of course if someone knows they have an illness and make no attempt to protect other people from that whether that’s not using a condom or not covering their mouth when they sneeze on the Tube (my disability makes me immune suppressed so probably more worried by a  germy copy of the Metro on the Bakerloo line.)

But this shame and stigma simply worsens the problem. By suggesting that STIs are a moral failing you make people less likely to discuss the subject of using condoms or other barrier methods such dental dams with any sexual partner, especially ones they aren’t long term relationships with and it makes them afraid and ashamed to visit clinics for check ups and treatments.

Partly because it was essential to my job as a sex worker it’s been a long time since I felt any particular shame about visiting STI clinics viewing them as just as much a part of the NHS as all the other departments my chronic illness takes me to. But it’s clear to me that other people, including the NHS itself, do not see them like that judging by the shifty silence in the waiting rooms.

There’s always a Cinderella sense to them with euphemistic signage, hard to find departments, restricted opening hours you can’t book in advance and a vague feel of reprimand from the reception staff I find baffling especially when most of these clinics serve other aspects of sexual health too like contraception or smear tests. (And yet they wonder why women under 30 are failing to attend cervical screening tests as much as they should? What a puzzle.)

Yet when it came down to it and I discovered after a routine STI check at the fantastic Dean Street Express in Soho (which took me fifteen minutes including an HIV test) that I had chlamydia and had almost certainly given it to my Master, I felt incredibly guilty and disappointed in myself. I could see why people just do not want to have that awkward conversation especially if they fear being judged.

I stared at the text message of doom willing it away, drank several cups of tea to distract me and reassured myself that telling him was the right thing to do, especially because of Princess and that it couldn’t really be more awful than the only other time I had had to tell someone I had chlamydia.

Back in the days when I got round a lot of cock and wasn’t quite as sensible as I should have been, I ended up fucking a guy my very very coupled up housemate was obsessed with. On her boyfriend’s birthday when we were all in the pub she became paranoid that her fella could tell they had been having a torrid emotional affair for months. So in impeccable drunken logic I took said guy home for a decoy fuck so her boyfriend wouldn’t suspect anything. He turned out to be a spectacular fuck and didn’t leave for the entire weekend and definitely distracted both my flatmate and her boyfriend nicely.

Unfortunately it also gave me symptomatic chlamydia and I spent the next few weeks feeling like I had a dreadful kidney infection. I ended up with antibiotics and an awkward chat to be had on February 14th, having to phone my ex fuck to tell him I had chlamydia and he almost certainly did too. There’s never a good moment for that disclosure but accidentally interrupting his big Valentine’s Day date with the girlfriend I didn’t know he had took it to the next league.

My logic was that things could only go better this time with my Master and luckily they did. He basically sighed and shrugged like ‘shit happens’ and then we discussed best places to get antibiotics. I was mortified but he took it calmly and with concern for me as much as anything else and no annoyance at me for putting him and Princess in that situation. My other fuck buddy however was everything you don’t want when you have that conversation.

So while I’d still rather I’d never been in the situation with my Master it proved to me who I should be fucking and it’s not the man who gets angry or dismissive when you discuss sexual health or bodily autonomy. I ditched the fuck buddy and put my effort into my relationship with my Master instead.

It just goes to show when we don’t shame people for being imperfect or treat them like sexual lepers, they talk and trust more and the sex gets better no less…

Clean Cut

Pride

Sometimes living in London feels like possibility rather than annoyance and Pride is one of those times. I met up with Princess and my Master after the parade to enjoy the atmosphere in Soho and indulge in some world class people watching.

I enjoyed seeing both of them so relaxed and revelled in watching them watch other people. I don’t get to see my Master’s same sex side very much and it both enlightening and hot to see what catches his eye in a man. I’d have enjoyed seeing him flirt too but you can’t have it all.

I also enjoyed kissing Princess in public and her marking me with her red lipstick (even if it did make me look sunburned on occasion rather than sexy!) And there was that warm sense of pleasure that came from watching other women notice her. With a rainbow tattoo round her thigh and some very sexy short shorts she certainly turned heads.

But I think my favourite moment of an excellent day was seeing three women holding hands walking together on Greek Street and being reminded that three is very often the perfect number…

Pride

Three Times As Smug

Now I know I’m extremely lucky with my life generally but reading this article on how people hate threesomes just made me realise that I’m Lottery winner levels of luck on a regular basis because none of the complaints in the article are an issue for me.

Rather naively I’d always associated the term threesome with that stereotypical image of a man and two women together and thus before fucking my Master and Princess had this idea in my head that I’d never had a threesome before. I need to get the words ‘slow learner’ tattooed on my forehead frankly because my narrow definitions of sex and inability to put two and two together are getting embarrassing.

Not only had I had threesomes before, one of my first relationships as a teenager was a threesome. I was alternating between fucking two friends in a very casual on off way when on a tipsy evening they shyly confessed that they’d been fucking each other too for years.

I think they were expecting shock or awkward questions about their bisexuality and friendship and instead they got me trying to hide a filthy smile and barely a pause before the three of us were in bed together.

For a girl who loved cock, getting to enjoy two at a time was a treat in itself whether I was getting to experience the pleasure of both or watching them please each other but either way I never felt left out. I almost had to reminded to join in sometimes I was such an enthusiastic voyeur to their playing.

Plus there are few better ways when relatively sexually inexperienced to learn how to pleasure a cock than watching two men who know their way round their own and someone else’s so well. I love that confidence men have when they play with their cock and in this case that confidence extended to them sucking each other’s cocks too.

I had several happy months playing with both of them together and separately and was more than disappointed when my GCSEs meant having to give it up. The memories however kept me warm on many evenings for years to come.

Unfortunately I’ve never found two men happy to play in the same way since although when I was doing sex work I lived in a seaside town popular with stag parties and often got men who wanted to fuck me alongside their best mate. They’d be adamant to begin with that it wasn’t a threesome but a tag team instead.

I enjoyed the submission of sucking one’s cock while their friend fucked me before they would swap over and each get their turn. But with just enough taking charge, I could almost always get them to overcome their initial fear of each other’s cocks to end the evening with them masturbating each other with the prize of getting to come over me. A starter threesome if you like.

I did get to sample some of the issues that article mentioned though in another sex work based threesome when a couple hired me to be their third for their wedding anniversary. I’d never fucked a woman before and wasn’t particularly enthusiastic because of the way the husband went about organising it. And judging by how much he was paying me I should have stopped and thought about whether it was too good to be true or not.

We didn’t even get to the point where anyone touched each other and the whole evening went horribly wrong because of his insistence that fucking two women at the same time involved comparing them to each other and playing favourites. It was inadequacy in action and I was secretly delighted when his wife burst into tears and screamed at me to leave since it meant I didn’t have to fuck a man who wasn’t in control and a woman hating every minute of it.

I was less keen when he then insisted he wasn’t going to pay me at all even for the time I’d already spent there (and getting ready) and I ended up massively out of pocket and having to wait a long time at a suburban bus stop quite clearly dressed to fuck and hoping the neighbours were talking as revenge for my not being able to afford a cab home as planned.

While I’m sure they remembered that particular anniversary better than I do (even if it’s separately…) but it definitely put me off MFF threesomes too until my Master suggested it with Princess.

I was still nervous that I might not enjoy sex with a woman but I knew that there would be no danger of him losing control or leaving anyone out because he’s far too calm and confident for that. But I am still always impressed by he manages to choreograph each threesome so it feels completely natural without being repetitive in any way.

No wonder I’m so spoiled and smug now…

Three Times As Smug

Lucky

A blog reader the other day responded to a piece I wrote reminding me how lucky I am with my Master and Princess and it made me smile because I really really am. Not only they are kind and loving and delightfully filthy and I enjoy their company immensely, but the whole relationship is essentially like winning the lottery in lots of ways.

My path with my Master crossed absolutely by chance through the mutual friends of mutual friends and it’s unlikely we’d ever met on any other occasion. The fact I didn’t mind the open nature of his relationship with Princess certainly got us off to a good start while the chances of us being equally filthy and having such mutually compatible kinks was the second stroke of luck.

The next bit that worked out was that I finally stopped querying everything he suggested me in a fit of self doubt and trusted his logic that he liked Princess and he liked me and so we’d like each other and started fucking her as well.

I don’t think any of the three of us expected that to work out quite as well as it did and that we’d be so compatible together. I know they joke about people like me who with a couple being called a unicorn but there really is some truth in how rare and unusual it is for such relationships to work out so well.

I feel incredibly lucky each time I think what’s developed out what was basically a chance meeting to begin with and I’m sure anyone would appreciate such a stroke of fate. But for me there is the added feeling of luck meeting not one, but two people who understand me being disabled.

Most people think of disability as using a wheelchair (or more accurately that horrible expression ‘wheelchair bound’) so being invisibly disabled by illness confuses people immensely especially when you are dating which when you are supposed to be impressing people.

There’s trying to find the right moment to mention it and make it clear it’s an important part of my life but not make it the only thing about me. Do you talk about while you’re still at the exchanging email stage when it makes people imagine the worst most disabling forms of disability that freaks them out? Or do you wait til you meet in person and you look ‘normal’ to them in the pub with your pint so they don’t think you are ‘really’ disabled?

Doing it in person puts you both on the spot. I often feel the need to balance medical privacy with convincing them my relatively unknown condition really does exist* while giving them a comfortable Disneyfied version of chronic illness so they don’t climb out the toilet window to get away from you in disappointment at how their date has gone.

Disclosing something personal like a disabling illness seems to broach early dating etiquette for many people like you’ve just given them a political spiel or offered to compare income. People’s responses range between immediately changing the subject to convincing me why I’m wrong to use the word disabled because I don’t look disabled or tell me I’m not in fact ill because they’ve never heard of my illness and I just need to try yoga/more sleep/leeches/thinking positively or whatever it was their’s mum’s friend’s dogsitter’s cousin did to cure the same condition and problem solved.

It’s always always caused an issue. Even if they aren’t full of their own feelings and opinions on illness and disability, it causes a pause like a dropped stitch in a line of knitting as we struggle to get the flow of the date back to exchanging our best anecdotes in the most charming way possible.

Because even if they get it, it’s let the elephant into the room and the rest of the date comes down to how long before he points it out and I have to wrangle it in response. The big grey shadow of the disability discussion is that people always always want to know if you can still have sex and it’s just a matter of time before they ask.

I mean I get that that seems like a genuinely relevant question on a date if you fancy someone but it presumes that I want to have sex with them too and ignores that there’s plenty of non disabled reasons someone might not be able to have sex so becomes as invasive and rude as me asking if he’ll be able to get it up after a fifth pint. You can see why casual sex with little conversation appealed to me so much for so long.

I think I trusted my Master the minute I told him about my illness when we first met and not only he did he not ask that question, but I could tell he was thinking about fucking me and simply working round anything my illness made difficult rather than simply waiting for a polite moment to enquire.

And that’s exactly what he’s done throughout our relationship and it never feels like a particular issue even when I’m not quite well enough for him for fuck me senseless. Both he and Princess know my body well enough for my illness just to become one part of me and our relationship and that acceptance makes me feel incredibly lucky.

So if you ever meet anyone with any kind of disability or chronic illness I hope I’ve given you some pointers on what not to do if you want to get lucky with them…

 

*(I’d rather not mention it by name here as it makes me very identifiable in real life not because I’m awkward about it.)

Lucky

365 Days

Coincidentally around the time my relationship with my Master began I started keeping a diary. It was really to try and develop the habit generally but it turned out to be fortuitous timing as in between the notes of people’s birthdays or appointments, there are unexpected milestones such as ‘the first time my Master fisted me’ or ‘Sir ordered me to make myself come in a public place tonight.’

This catalogue of smut amuses me immensely with its record of my training and a glimpse into what I find important enough to note in my life. It also shows me how things can change in just a year.

Because this time last year, my Master was planning the second threesome with his wife and me and I had absolutely no idea what that would lead to. I mean I knew there would be fun and orgasms but I never expected the emotions and relationship that developed from that night turning ‘the wife‘ into Princess and then into such an important person in my life.

I have a quite different relationship with both my Master and Princess. She is my girlfriend in the way that most people would imagine such a thing. We not only fuck but share that close friendship required in a relationship. My Master and I are friends too but in a very different way and I don’t wan to turn him into what I have with Princess as it works so well as it is.

But among my friends who know that I’m part of a relationship involving three people (and the question that wider society asks about relationships like this) is ‘don’t you feel second best to their marriage?’

And for me, the answer is definitely no. I never feel any less important because I’m not married to either of them. Other people might feel very differently but for me discovering that there is a style of polyamory known as ‘solo poly‘ was life changing. Put simply this is when you choose to be the ‘extra’ partner outside the marriage or ‘primary’ couple and aren’t seen as lesser for that role.

I never fitted well into ‘traditional’ or monogamous relationships before now. Even on the occasions when I was dating someone I really liked I felt restless and confined quite quickly and the relationships never lasted more than a few months. I assumed I was just being a bit of a diva who tired of people easily and was impossible to please or even worse, a bit of a bitch.

This latter suspicion was confirmed by the fact I felt very comfortable in the relationships I’d had with married men where I was basically the bit on the side. I disliked my part in their infidelity but couldn’t help enjoying the model of a relationship where I could see other people and continue to structure my life around myself as much as them.

My Master was completely honest with me from the moment we met that he was in a relationship and that Princess knew and agreed to him having other relationships. Slightly unfairly I took that statement with a pinch of salt as I’d heard it before with varying levels of truth to it and because I didn’t really care.

I assumed we’d have a sexually charged fling with no real emotion that would wear itself out and not really matter. So as the months passed and things were building up and it was becoming obvious that he’d been completely truthful about his relationship being open, something very odd happened and I started to be less interested in fucking any other men apart from him.

Everything I’d thought about who I was in relationships somehow seemed to have been turned on its head and I was a bit confused but extremely happy with everything. I’d always joked that my dream man lived on an oil rig and I saw him every three weeks and got my bed to myself most nights.

Then Princess came along a year ago and everything got turned upside down again and put back into place in new ways. I still wasn’t really interested in fucking other men apart from my Master (unless he was there too) but I was very interested in fucking her and getting to know her as person.

Plus I really liked this new relationship where there were three of us fitting together alongside the feeling of three different couples in the dynamic (me and my Master, Princes and my Master and me and Princess) and that sense that each of us was getting what they needed from the dynamic.

I had the full time emotions of no longer being single but with my living alone lifestyle, Princess had the female friendship and sex she’d been missing, Sir had his wife full time and the sexual enjoyment of his slut on the side. Having such clear roles that fit together so well certainly works for all of us.

I’ve certainly ended up getting exactly what I wanted but couldn’t articulate I needed because I had no idea relationships like this existed in a society that insists monogamy is the only way love can be valid. It might not work for everyone (and like all relationships, it does require work.) And trust and effort and acceptance and all the things that add to the very hot sex.

But how could I feel second best in something like that where each person’s role is just as important as the next? Here’s to many more years…

365 Days

First One

So the blog is exactly a year old today. Excellent going for someone who has never been very good at commitment or New Year’s resolutions before now. Considering how nervous I was about writing about my sexual life and posting pictures of my cunt in the public domain in those first few days I did not expect to still be here a year later.

Instead I’ve loved writing here. It’s partly excellent for organising my thoughts about my relationship, an excuse to show off what I’ve been doing and a way to record the sheer amount of training and effort my Master puts into me. Like a slutty diary everyone can read really.

And a lot of people have been reading it. Five thousand unique readers with almost 18 thousand hits from all round the world. Yesterday alone there were visitors from Venezuela, Pakistan and South Africa and I have regular readers in Poland, Brazil and Saudi Arabia. I rather enjoy the fact my cunt and my relationship with my Master and Princess have gone global.

The blog has given me the opportunity to meet people and make new friends, audition two potential sissy submissives, make and sell porn, wear my magic wand out with use, fuck a lot of large objects and fix up a loyal reader up with a woman to fist in real life.

As I mentioned before I’m slightly disappointed I didn’t manage to tick more full achievements off my list that my Master gave me a year ago but I did enjoy completing the following:

Trained my waist to 25″ in my corset without fainting. That’s a six inch reduction in 365 days and if my ribs allow, I’ll hopefully keep going to my 24″ target and celebrate with a new corset now I can fully lace myself into it on my own.

Taking my Master’s whole fist and four of his fingers at the same time in an early threesome with him and Princess. Not quite both fists but only a thumb away from both hands.

Wearing a wig and butt plug every time I went out for a month. My main issue at that stage was keeping the plug in as I walked. I should use my New Year relaxation to start back to that training in fact.

I think we’ve covered that I kept a public blog of my training but I also spent several nights with a girl. My relationship with Princess was the surprise of the year. I don’t think any of the three of us expected to turn into quite what it has and I couldn’t be happier that it has.

It’s certainly been the focus for both my Master and me this year and well worth any distraction from my list. It’s altered and strengthened my relationship with my Master and created a whole new one with her. I feel extremely lucky that he’s allowed me to share and shape her.

It’s taken my submission and his dominance in very different directions than I would expected a year ago and it’s been extremely good for me to be challenged by her in so many different ways as well.

I doubt 2017 can bring any surprises quite as unexpected as that but I look forward to what my Master has in mind all the same…

 

First One

Indecision

So I cancelled my date. Part of it was that post Christmas thing when you’ve lost the will to socialise and just want to lie in bed, but I knew there was more to it when I texted my Master to tell him.

I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was though. Yes, there was the slight worry that my date wouldn’t be good in bed as my Master has ruined me for life there. That made me realise I was actually quite nervous about showing off the obvious signs of my kinks to someone new.

I had no worry that he wouldn’t enjoy the pierced nipples and clit, but at the back of my mind I wondered how my stretched cunt would be received. Most men are borderline obsessed with a tight cunt and I was apprehensive about the response to my mine and the looseness I’ve worked hard at.

I love that work I’ve put in at my Master’s orders and I love how much easier I find it to come now, but I’m still cautious about having a part of my body judged especially by someone who probably doesn’t share the same kink.

I kept dithering between wanting to show my cunt off and make my Master proud and having to explain something in real life that’s incredibly personal and full of potential for misunderstanding and not knowing which side was winning: show off or shyness.

The only thing for it was to talk to my Master about it all. He knows me well enough to ask the right questions that made the whole thing make sense. I was apprehensive personally but also felt it wasn’t the right time to go on a date with someone else because I don’t feel I’m working hard enough at my submission to him at the moment.

At the back of my mind I’m very aware that I really didn’t end up ticking as many things of my Master’s list for 2016 as I’d have liked and that seeing another man outside those rules felt a bit like going out to play before I’d done my homework.

I’d discussed this a bit with my Master recently and he was happy that I was making progress elsewhere, especially with training Princess and obviously I am not going to tell him differently as he clearly knows his own mind.

But I know when I look at the list I want to make an excuse or justification for each bit I didn’t achieve and I know myself well well enough to know that as soon as I do that, I know I haven’t done my best and am disappointed in myself.

Part of it is that I am much more used to active submission to him such as explicitly kneeling in front of him that I struggle to recognise my indirect submission through things like training Princess as still being overtly submissive and am harder on myself than I should be.

So when my Master told me there’d be direct orders if I went on the date, I changed my mind again. Who know what 2017 will bring?

Indecision