Go Faster Stripes

I’m not sure it was entirely down to shaving my legs but I’ve definitely come back to life a bit recently. Smooth skin definitely got my brain going if not my cunt and I felt the urge to start texting smut chat to Sir again.

There was definite excitement on Saturday when I arranged my first proper trip out of the house since New Year to go Master and Princess’s house. Lying in bed during the day resting a tiny bit of me felt like I should be sensible and make sure I didn’t over do it too soon. The rest of me was absolutely adamant that even if it landed me back in bed for the foreseeable I was going to fuck them when I was there.

The only thing of any warmth and interest I’ve touched in weeks has been my electric blanket and it’s a very poor substitute for the feel of my two favourite people pressed against me. I told Sir I was hoping to get naked again after getting dressed to come to theirs and wore my favourite fuck me boots to be sure I had made my point when I arrived.

Honestly I’d have been quite content to walk in their front door shedding clothes with each step and straight into their bed but Sir hasn’t lost his love of making me wait. He poured drinks and cooked an excellent dinner and left me to squirm on the sofa the whole time. I was so close to discovering my inner brat and actually begging him to fuck me when Princess let her brat flag fly and started sucking his cock while he laughed at how eager we both were.

She and I took turns to suck his cock and it was the oddest thing. I felt completely out of practice. His cock tasted and felt familiar but instead of that muscle memory of knowing a long term lover’s body I felt like I was starting all over again like I’d never sucked a cock before. And not just with him but I couldn’t get my position or rhythm with Princess’s cunt either. It was like I was a beginner again.

I always love when my Master takes charge and I needed it even more than usual as he ordered me how to kneel and what to do and pulled me onto his chest to kiss me so I couldn’t have moved away even if I wanted to. Which I didn’t. Him kissing me so hard he almost bit my lips brought me back into the pace of playing with both of them as I rediscovered the feel of them both.

I love that state. Sort of blissed out on sex and submission and open to anything Sir tells me. So when he led me over the kitchen table and bent me over it I didn’t care how much I needed to contort myself to take his cock. Or how hard he was fucking me against the edge of the table. Nor how high in the air I had to hold my legs up when he put me on the table under Princess’s cunt and kept his cock deep inside me.

I was drunk on dick and her taste barely registering what they were doing just drinking in the feeling of it all. Sir brought me right back by coming on my cunt so it dripped down onto the table while Princess licked my clit on her hands and knees with her naked ass and cunt right up against the kitchen window for all the street to see.

It felt amazing. And even better next day when I had stripes of bruising on my upper thighs where Sir had fucked me so hard against the table it had left marks. I love those markers of sex. I love the smell of someone on me next day, the feeling that my legs were pushed apart, the sensation that my cunt was fucked raw the night before.

I felt it in the ache of my muscles afterwards and the bruises that kept developing and the sheer sense that as well as being sated with orgasms, touching and fucking and playing with my Master and Princess somehow feels like being back to myself after feeling distant while the only warm touch in my life had been with my electric blanket.

Each little ache and mark reminded me that it’s like coming home to sex after a long vacation…

Go Faster Stripes

Dry January

I feel like I’ve forgotten how to type it’s been so long since I blogged. I gave myself some time off over Christmas since I thought you’d be all be too busy for reading and I ended up sidetracked by socialising myself.

In fact I saw the New Year licking Princess to orgasm on the kitchen table in eye line of her neighbour’s NYE party and then marvelled how much things have changed in the three years since I started fucking Sir that I spent New Year’s Day with him and Princess in our pyjamas rather than being ragingly kinky and rather liking how things have developed between us in that time.

Then I came home to sleep the seasonal fun off and haven’t really got out of bed since. Not out of laziness but with a relapse of my chronic illness laying me up. Admittedly if there’s any month being stuck at home doesn’t mean too much FOMO, it’s January when everyone else is out of the pub or in the gym but it’s still left me too ill to write and more to the point, with nothing much to write about for a while.

I’ve no interest in booze and my cunt is closed for business and drier than all the social media hashtags possible. I feel like I’ve forgotten what orgasms are while my body conserves its energy like a very very slowly charging battery. It’s both incredibly boring and oddly interesting having so much time to just think.

When you can’t do things the usual way you have to think outside the box. With chronic illness this can mean pacing the way you do the washing up or adapting ways to wash your hair or other practical things, but sometimes it means having to alter how you interact with the people in your life.

I find it easier at times to be more myself and less Candi with Princess. A lot of that is because I have years of experience of close female friendships and some of our relationship just feels like an extension of that whereas I have very little experience of male friendship and even less of the way you get to know men when you date them long term.

At times that formality between me and Sir has been compounded by the nature of a D/s relationship which often relies on strict rules and a defined way of interacting. Being a slow learner, it’s taken me a while to learn that the game of D/s that my Master and I play together isn’t less important or serious if I don’t play it all the time.

Not only is ok to know when to step outside the game, but sometimes it’s essential to do so. I always trusted my Master from the first time we met but it’s taken me a long time to trust myself in this relationship because I don’t come from a background of reliable people with my best interests at heart.

I had to go slowly to make sure my mind was catching up with how quickly my gut instinct and cunt were making decisions for me and my Master has always allowed me to go at that pace while always encouraging me that I can push myself further than I think. Most of that came through kink and D/s and I can’t think of a more enjoyable way to work on myself (especially compared to my therapy sessions each week) and I never want to give that side of Sir and I’s relationship up.

But recently I’ve realised that I haven’t been pushing myself enough outside the kink with Sir and behaving like we’re dating as well as doing D/s. And without doing that it means I can’t keep pushing myself with being submissive with him because submission is so rooted in trust and intimacy that I have to keep building on that instead of standing still.

So while I physically can’t get kinky, I’m pushing myself to be submissive by showing the side of me isn’t just Candi to her Master. Not just wearing latex and corsets but sometimes being ill in front of him in an oversized hoodie on the sofa or texting him about his week or just spending time together doing nothing.

All things I do in front of Princess because I love and trust her (and because she doesn’t give me any choice because she might be tiny but she’s tough on me) and all things I should do with Sir because if I love him and trust him enough to tie me up, drip hot wax on me or permanently alter my body for him, then I need to learn other ways to be intimate with him.

Also I’m pretty sure if he sees me with unwashed hair and ugly slippers while I’m ill, he’ll appreciate me dressed up in full corset and wig even more when I’m back to full health…

Dry January

Seasonal Surprises

I’m a fan of the concept of Christmas but like many things less keen on the reality of it. I’m also not a fan of organised fun so it was surprising to me that I went to a Christmas panto with my Master and Princess the other night. I mean admittedly it was a queer panto at a gay bar with at least three jokes about fisting. The minimum of awkward audience interaction and the opportunity to get quite drunk definitely made for festive cheer.

It also meant it was much fun to stay at their house than go home afterwards and we all piled in bed drunkenly and my Master and I discovered we were both horny. I’ve never had properly drunk sex with Sir before and I’ve definitely never fucked him in the dark. I was enjoying being pressed up against him only able to work out of what he was doing using all my other senses.

Feeling his hands on me, then hearing him reach for the lube and the sound of him applying it and feeling his hands in me. It was hot in that frantic way you fuck when you’re drunk and horny with none of the of the niceties of sober sex. Just the urge to come and then fall asleep together. I’d forgotten that aspect of drunken fucking.

I’d also forgotten that when I when I’m drunk I never get as wet because alcohol dehydrates more than just my mouth. So I was enjoying my Master manhandling me into positions he could fuck me hard and deep with the simple purpose of coming hard instead me while Princess listened to us and played with her clit at the same time.

But it was also uncomfortable at times. Friction in ways I wouldn’t choose and I definitely took a few deep breaths at times. It didn’t stop me coming but as I fell asleep after helping Princess come I really felt that my cunt had been used and suspected Sir might have to go gently with me in the morning after that.

I didn’t think anything else of it when I woke up at 3.30am dying for a pee. I still don’t know my Master and Princess’ house well enough to be get up in the middle of the night in that barely conscious autopilot I do in my own flat and I have to remind myself to have manners and close the bathroom door even though no one would really notice.

I sat down sleepily and was jolted more wide awake than I think I’ve ever been when there was a noise like a cannonball ricocheting around the bathroom and the feeling of something heavy dropping out of my cunt. When I turned the light on I discovered that my Master had not put his fist inside me earlier but a giant metal ben wa ball*.

I think we can say my stretching training has been extremely successful because I had completely failed to notice the large weighted jiggle ball inside me until it fell out and I was standing in Sir’s bathroom thinking two things. Had I just broken his toilet and how the hell was I going to rescue a metal ball in the middle of the night?

I really had no choice except to put my hand down the toilet and fish it out before scrubbing it and myself in the posh hand wash and go back to bed hoping that I hadn’t woken anyone up with a peace shattering noise. This time I went back to sleep half horrified, half amused at the capacity of my cunt.

I did worry a bit what my Master would say when I told him this tale in the morning and luckily he found it hilarious. I found it slightly less funny when he told me there were two of them and asked where the other one was. Princess volunteered to check my cunt to no avail and they were both surprisingly good humoured that it had probably caused chaos with their plumbing just before Christmas.

We got up and made breakfast chuckling about when kinks go wrong and my Master joking about how as Christmas presents go this one had excelled itself with the sex and the amusement even if they were never a pair again and he had an awkward hour with a plumber as pay off.

After breakfast I went to brush my teeth and shower while he and Princess were clearing up and as I finished brushing my teeth, I sneezed and got an even bigger shock than in the middle of the night when I felt the second supposedly missing ben wa ball slide out of my cunt.

My mental reflexes are clearly faster than my cunt’s because I managed to avoid dropping it on my bare foot or breaking the bathroom floorboards even while laughing that I had absolutely no idea that it had been inside my cunt for the last twelve hours and I hadn’t even noticed.

The only feeling better than realising just how stretched but strong my cunt is after all that training was the moment when I walked into the living room and held a jiggle ball in each hand and watched my Master and Princess’s faces as they realised the ben wa ball was no longer missing and my cunt can perform magic tricks….

 

*in case you missed the small print in that link the two jiggle balls weigh 1.6 pounds in total. That’s 725g metric if you prefer. And I can’t decide if not noticing that I have something the weight of three blocks of butter in my cunt is my finest kinky moment or utterly terrifying.

Seasonal Surprises

Polish and Shine

I think regular readers of the blog know I have a thing about painted nails. I feel undressed and exposed not having my nails immaculately painted at all times. A little chip else is like being as undone as a ladder in my tights or discovering I spilt toothpaste on my top and have to wear it all day.

I’ve loved nail polish since I was a child. It was the ‘acceptable’ femme indicator in a country where make up beyond a little powder and lipstick for church were ‘fast’. It also had the glamour of the city that sat much more comfortably with me than the scrubbed bare hands of the side of my family who were farmers.

Every single year for Christmas I asked Father Christmas for a bottle of pink Tinkerbell nail polish which could be peeled off and didn’t make the whole nail polish thing seem quite so adult to actual adults. Santa clearly had opinions about the subject though because he never noticed that bit on my letter.

So when I was old enough to start going shopping down the town on my own at the age of about eleven or twelve, the first thing I bought was a bottle of black nail polish. I wore it religiously throughout my teens even if I had to pull my sleeves down to hide it from teachers and relatives who couldn’t decide if it symbolised Satan or sluttiness.

I still fall back on black nail polish as a perennial favourite nearly thirty years later but since I started blogging here I’ve branched out to appreciate the power of perfect red nails too. Not just on me either, but on Princess’s fingers too interspersed with orders that proved I was definitely on the side of slutdom not Satan all along.

It’s hot to paint her nails (and this fantastic piece from Tits and Test Tubes on using nail polish to domme a girl made me very tempted to give Princess festive red tipped fingers this week) and I do love the impact a little extra colour adds to fucking myself. But it never occurred to me if there’s dominance in painting nails, there’s submission too.

Until I found myself painting Sir’s nails the other night that was and then it was as crystal clear to me as the best top coat in town. He and Princess were trying out Torture Garden to see if it was smutty and slutty enough for us to play at and in absence of being able to go with them, I had offered to help them dress up.

Sir’s make up needed the edge of nail polish to tie everything together to make sure it was an outfit not a costume. Black latex top, black leather shorts, stockings, suspenders, the sharpest pair of black boots I’ve seen in years and black eye make up that shimmered dark green if you looked closely. The nails just capped it all off.

I didn’t expect that sitting across a table from Sir fully clothed with a tiny bottle of beetle black nail polish in my hands would be one of the most submissive things I’ve ever done. I didn’t touch anything except his hands and yet it felt so incredibly submissive I could feel myself slipping into that subspace that feels like the calm focus before sleep. The state where you could take any order at all.

I am very well acquainted with my Master’s hands. They’ve held me up, pushed me down, made me come countless times and been completely inside me. I’ve often glanced at them in public and remembered what they’ve done in private but I’ve never just sat and held them before.

Completely non sexually, just spread out on the kitchen table in front of me, letting me position his hand as I needed and apparently give him the directions for a change. Patiently allowing me to turn each finger and pay attention to each nail. Pointing out when I missed a bit. Sitting still to let each coat dry. Making sure they were absolutely perfect and that I wasn’t rushing the task or cutting corners.

It was a full hour of my full attention on him and his hands and it reminded me that submission doesn’t have to be inherently sexual. In fact sometimes taking the direct sexual content out of it makes it deeper. We didn’t fuck, we didn’t touch apart from doing nails then his make up.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I went home. Some of that is that he looks even better in stockings than I’ve spent the last three years imagining and I could look at his legs all day in them. Yet despite always wanting to see him in stockings it was submission that was on my mind instead.

I’d definitely be interested in more acts of non sexual submission to him in the coming year but then again I’m also very interested in him letting me paint his nails again and then fist me knowing how perfect his hands look…

Polish and Shine

Trade

I’m in the middle of trying to get a bit of work done to my flat. It’s one of those very practical things that feels very adult indeed. I’ve been comparing quotations and checking people’s insurance and credentials. And laughing at how much I’ve grown up in the last few years because the last time I hired anyone to work on my flat, the fact he was incredibly fuckable was just as much a concern as how well he could lay my floor.

But don’t worry, even my formerly slutty self didn’t let him lay me as well. I just spent two long days flirting outrageously with him and respecting the fact that temptation wasn’t going to make him cheat on his clearly adored girlfriend. In a world where so many men will fuck you if they think they can get away with it, his honesty and conscience even when his cock was whispering in his ear made him even hotter.

That wasn’t where I learned to flirt with workmen. I think I developed that skill in my teens when I started working in service industry jobs and learned that male manual workers are often the only men who understand the use of emotional labour and platonic flirting as social interaction.

There’s probably some class dynamics in there about being the ‘hired help’ around middle class women who are paying their bill, but either way I have always loved flirting with workmen. Partly I can’t help playing up that stereotype that girly girls like me know nothing about practical things like paint or shelving because it often allows me to flirt my way to discounts or use the element of surprise that I actually know much more than I’m letting on if needed.

But mainly a lot of manual workers are hot. There’s something about the physique of a man’s body that comes from the simple act of using for hard physical work in the course of a day that always appeals to me in a way a gym honed body has never done. I love that hint of muscle and promise of strength in a body that moves and builds things for a living.

And watching people do something they are skilled at is one of my greatest turn ons. It doesn’t particularly matter what the skill is but seeing someone do something they are so confident and skilled at that they make it look easy gives me that pinch in my stomach of attraction as well as stirring in my cunt. Doesn’t matter if it’s cooking a meal, re-roofing a house or tiling a floor really. The attraction is in the expertise.

So when a friend asked me if I would stay at their flat for a couple of days while they were having some work done to the windows I agreed readily. Rather than them take time off work to let the guy in and out all day, I was happy to supervise and hope I hadn’t set myself up to stare at builder’s bum and make tea all day for a man with dubious political views which is the flip side to spending time round men who work with their hands.

But the slutty gods were smiling on me because he was young, handsome and Hungarian. I’m usually not a fan of Aryan looking men but his wholesome ashy blonde hair and blue eyes were complimented by an underlying air of filth that made me much more interested in making him tea and discussing Central European politics than I’d usually be.

He really did work on those windows the first day although there was much more flirtation on the second day. But by the third when the work had moved indoors, things stepped up a notch. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing him leaning over the sills with his ass right in my line of view all morning.

This time he took his lunch break and as we moved round the fairly small kitchen he brushed against me a few times that way that could be accidental if the response wasn’t favourable. I brushed back as he insisted on helping me wash up the mugs and plates used before he went back to work.

I spent the afternoon very aware of that sensation of where he’d grazed against my ass with his crotch feeling the tingle linger in my cunt and distract me. He’d stayed out of my sight line since then and I wondered if he was feeling awkward. I decided bringing him a beer when he finished work was the way to go.

He thanked me and finished clearing up. I slunk back into the kitchen feeling foolish and horny for mistaking porn for real life and started putting the washing up away. Clattering plates I didn’t hear him come up behind me until he set the beer bottle on the counter and slid his hands round my hips pressing me against him.

I went soft against how hard he was and he brushed his hands increasingly firmly across my tits and hips before pulling the zip of my jeans down, letting his fingers explore my clit and then inside my cunt as I leaned back into him. He had strong hands to hold me but with fingers used to small skilful movements and he made me squirm as I came.

Only then did we end up facing each other and we kissed before it was my turn to run my hands over him, slipping the straps of his painters overalls down to reveal that he wasn’t wearing any underwear and his cock was right there for me to play with.

I pulled the overalls right down and slipped his cock into my mouth. I was right that he was the right kind of filthy. He was shaved smooth and scented with just enough hard work and sweat to make me really want to suck on his balls too. I alternated between cock and balls with my mouth until he pushed his dick further into my mouth.

I balanced myself by cupping my hand under his balls as I sucked his cock and he reached down and cupped my fingers further back pressing against his asshole. I paused and he widened his stance so I knew he wanted my finger inside him. I put my fingers on top his cock and drew them down it as I sucked them slick and then slipped one into his ass.

He stiffened against and then opened up so my finger was able to slide in and out in time to my mouth on his cock, literally sucking and fucking him at the same time staring up at his face from my knees. His eyes were closed and he was only moving in synch with my actions almost like he was in trance.

Suddenly he startled forward grabbing my shoulders so my finger pressed inside his ass and he came so hard into my mouth I couldn’t swallow it all running down my chin and making his cock slip out of my mouth as he was still coming. It was dripping off his cock and my face and onto the floor as he was still gripping my shoulders.

He let go and I stood up to kiss him still covered in his come. I pulled my jeans up and he stepped back, pulling his overalls off completely so he was naked from the waist down and taking a cloth he got down on his hands and knees, back to me with his just fucked arsehole visible and slowly and deliberately mopped up his own come as I watched.

Still on the floor, he tossed the cloth in the sink and pulled my jeans back down and buried his tongue in my cunt with his cock in his hand. We both came again and only just had time to get dressed and composed again before my friend arrived home with more beers to thank us both with.

I have no idea what we sat and  talked about because both my mind and cunt were still completely distracted. I’m not sure I’ll ever look at a pair of painters overalls again the same way….

Trade

Giving

It’s my Master’s birthday this week and I think we all know I love giving to him. But I thought I’d be a little more traditional this week with an actual gift rather than an act of submission.

I had the fantastic Tom Starling* create this image of my Master fucking me and Princess to show the position that I think best represents the sexual compatibility (and relationship) between us. Sir is in charge while I submit and Princess is guided by his pace.

Each time is different as he likes it depending how much he’s stretched my cunt while Princess gets the reassurance of routine as we often end a threesome this way as it allows both of us to share his come. Me in my cunt, she with her mouth on my cunt while Sir watches us finish off.

The only downside to this position for me is that I can’t see my Master at that angle so I love seeing able to picture him in this way. I hope he enjoys it as much as I do…

*Tom custom created this image for me in less than a week and will use imagination or real life images to make your fantasies come to life. Quite the stocking filler for Christmas shall we say?

Giving

Submitting

Princess is away for a few days visiting friends and my Master and I were at a loose end without her to entertain us. Our minds both went to latex and submission almost instantly as an answer to our dilemma of what to do with ourselves.

It wasn’t much of a debate for me whether I should wear the latex stockings or my catsuit for Sir. Princess does not care for the feel of full latex (although she seemed not to be put off by me wearing the stockings the first time we fucked) so it seemed appropriate to make the most of a more receptive audience and dress right up for Sir.

I’ve spoken before about how my mindset for submission starts long before my Master walks into my house. It begins with deciding what to wear for Sir and builds with each deliberate act as I dress from sliding into latex to tightening my corset. Each act excites my mind and my cunt so that by the time I’m on my knees waiting for my Master I’m ready to be completely submissive.

And he built me up very nicely indeed with fifteen minutes riding the John Holmes toy on my living room before he let himself into my flat and took charge so that within seconds I was sucking his cock while still holding that huge toy in my cunt. Unfortunately while my cunt and mouth were incredibly willing, all that time on my knees had made my legs go to sleep and I couldn’t hold my position like I wanted.

So while chuckling at my misfortune Sir used the clear cut logic of a man getting his cock sucked and simply knelt down to make it easier for me to keep him in my mouth. I’m not sure he’s ever knelt in front of me before but not only did it feel incredibly subversive in the circumstances, it also made his cock feel incredible between my lips too.

Unlike Princess who has the skill needed to completely swallow Sir’s cock when she sucks him, I do not enjoy deepthroat and struggle to take cock too deeply as the act of gagging is not sexually enjoyable to me and tends to simply make me panicky. But at this angle of my Master’s cock being lower down than usual I was able to comfortably and confidently take his cock much further into my throat than normal and really savour it.

I haven’t just concentrated on sucking Sir’s cock for ages and I’d forgotten just how much I enjoy it. He tasted particularly good and I was quite happy when he moved from his knees to the sofa so I could just keep on using my mouth on him. The angle wasn’t just as deep but it still felt fantastic to me and judging by the sounds Sir was making he was thoroughly enjoying it too.

I would actually have been quite happy if Sir had told me to keep riding the toy inside me as I rocked my body back and forwards on my knees with his cock in my mouth and that he was going to come in my mouth. But I also didn’t object either when he ordered me off his cock and onto the toy as deeply as possible and told me to see if I could make myself come like that without touching myself or him.

I wasn’t sure if I could until he told me that under my blindfold he was watching me on my knees and stroking his cock in rhythm to me riding the toy. With that image in my head I couldn’t have held myself back from coming unless he’d pulled the toy out of my cunt to physically stop me. Few things go straight to my cunt more than the thought of my Master stroking his own cock.

Unless of course it’s my Master ordering me onto my hands and knees on the sofa and using his cock to fuck my John Holmes stretched cunt while using my corset to pull me closer onto his cock and feeling his whole body press and push against me with each motion. That goes so deeply to my cunt that it didn’t long to feel another orgasm building.

But I’d missed him using my corset like that to completely dominate and overwhelm my whole body and I wanted to make the most of every moment of it, stopping myself from coming to really feel his weight and warmth of his skin against the latex I was wearing. I only let myself come when he ordered me to stop holding back and came so hard my arms and legs gave way under me and I sprawled face first into the sofa cushions.

My Master pulled me back to my hands and knees with the corset and fucked me deeply to the point of plenty of noise and another orgasm for me before coming so hard into me that there was no way I could stop his come dripping out of me and down the shiny black latex I was wearing.

You know you have the right Dom in your life when you can enjoy the incredibly hot sound of his fresh come dripping out of you onto latex and the ground beneath you while you both catch your breath with his cock still inside you and then laugh together about the state of my upholstery afterwards….

Submitting