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

Meet Me

I met my Master at the tail end of a gruelling year in many ways from a bad break up with an ill advised boyfriend, family issues and two close friends almost dying. Plus for added cliche I had had a wobble about why I wasn’t married and having babies in my mid thirties as that seems to be last acceptable point at which to be single and childless without being seen as desperate or having missed your chance somehow.

In lieu of finding anyone who agreed with my seemingly outlandish idea that relationships didn’t require marriage, babies or mortgages to validate how serious they were I was having a clandestine affair with a married man I knew through work. Being someone’s mistress seemed like the best compromise between not settling down in the suburbs and my temptation to never date again out of sheer bloody mindedness.

In the middle of this I went to a friend’s wedding and met my Master. I don’t remember how we were actually introduced out of all the people there when I knew no one except the bride and he wasn’t actually meant to be there having only stepped in a plus one to help out a friend.

This slight lapse means that my first impression of my Master was thinking he’d be absolutely filthy and that I’d very very much like to fuck him. My second impression took months to actually work out but right from the start he calmed me down. My usual cunt first think second self would have pursued a quick fuck with him and probably still sat down in time for dinner never to see him again.

Instead he got me to behave immediately and actually consider for once that fucking and running wasn’t a good idea (especially since I’d already fucked the married man earlier that day.) Instead we flirted all evening and by text for several months, meeting once more for a drink but nothing more.

I couldn’t read the situation as it was unlike anything else I was used to. It was like he was setting a pace and instead of being bored by a lack of fucking I was enjoying the chase. It was a full three months before things progressed from potential pleasantries into perverted fun.

In the space of about twenty minutes texting one evening just before Christmas we discussed kink and I had my hand down my knickers for him greedy for the pay off of all those months of waiting.

But it wasn’t quite as simple as it sounds. My cunt loved the idea of being told what to do but my heart and mind wasn’t so sure about being controlled. I was in the process of stepping away from people who felt entitled to control my life and I was cynical about walking towards someone saying they wanted me to obey them from the outset.

I don’t know if my Master sensed just how skittish I was about trusting anyone at this stage in my life or if he just assumed that I was being cautious about committing to kink. But he went very carefully introducing just enough moderation to each filthy text based task to make sure I had to obey each stage to get my rewards from him without barking orders at me that would make me bolt.

He offered me the full D/s relationship up front or a fling if I preferred and unable to trust my own judgement after a lifetime of bad judgements with men I opted for the latter not realising he was training me from the very outset.

The first time we fucked he left work early after I gave him my address and left my front door open so a man I’d met twice could let himself into my house and find me waiting for him with my fingers in my cunt. In that moment he proved to me that he would not misuse the trust I was putting in him.

For the first time I understood that introducing a power dynamic to a relationship didn’t mean only one person had power but that it was shared. That you can’t have dominance without willing and active submission and anything else is an abuse. I had always been led to believe that to want to submit was somehow weakness on my part and an excuse to misbehave on other people’s but here was a man who valued that submission.

It was incredibly hot. I don’t think I’d ever had as many orgasms as in that first six months that my Master was training me. But I also found it incredibly challenging. Considering how naturally it came to me to submit, it was an active effort to keep trusting and believe that the developing relationship was genuine.

The hardest part for me was that my Master never gave me any reason to doubt or distrust him and so I knew all that fear and hesitation was coming entirely from me and my baggage and that the only way for me to get past it was to outrun it. If I’d discussed it with my Master I knew I’d just be bringing a different edition of the same shit with me in my head.

Instead I kept going to see my therapist and concentrating on being so present in my submission I didn’t have room to carry anything else with me in my head that distracted from it. I didn’t imagine where the relationship was going or what it meant for the future (possibly a bit too much so I didn’t quite realise what the offer of the collar really meant from him at the time.)

I was just sure there would be a moment when the submission and my ability to trust would feel equally easy and create an equilibrium and I’d know that that shit was in the past rather than trying to muscle in on the present all the time.

And I was right. That moment was actually the first time my Master introduced Princess and I in our first threesome when I went from thinking ‘what if?’ as if looking back about everything he instructed me to do and started thinking ‘why not?’ as if looking forward. That  moment I began to trust myself as much as I trusted him.

Being my usual slightly slow self it took me a while to see the emotional significance of the particular moment but now makes perfect sense. I can’t imagine a relationship with my Master without Princess and vice versa but at the time I simply couldn’t believe how different my life was in the space of a year with my Master being so patient with me.

Turns out you can do a lot when you trust the right person to make decisions for you….

Meet Me

Pussy Piercings

My Master was away on a stag do at the weekend and he came back both horny and full of ideas. I already knew about his liking for obviously fake tits and body modification but even I was surprised by his latest thought on new piercings.

It’s no coincidence that the collar he chose to denote ownership of me was a clit piercing as it combines form and function and I know he likes my other piercings too. But I was naively unaware that there are other female genital piercings until he mentioned them this morning.

Labial piercings have the effect of decoration and helping to stretch my cunt further and both of those things interest me enough that I’m spending my Sunday evening researching it online.

What you do think though? Three rings each side or more?

IMG_2539

Pussy Piercings

Fist Me. And Fist Me Again…

My Master is working me hard this week and I am loving it. He’s literally training me up again to get my cunt back to its full stretching capacity. There’s the warm up of working from one finger to a fist before the challenge of sizing through the toys before proper rest days for my muscles.

I like his paced approach. When orgasms are at stake I tend to be very impulsive and chase the moment of satisfaction even if I exhaust myself in the process and don’t get to do it again.

My Master had to take quite a while at the start of our relationship to slow me down before I ran away with myself. He couldn’t even start stretching me out until he’d taught me to stop chasing my cunt in circles looking for orgasms. It took me a while to realise there was no rush and I had time to take baby steps instead of bolting all the time.

So I trust him to take me at the right pace this week too and wasn’t surprised when he ordered me back to the fist toy yesterday. I was to start with four fingers, then five and then the John Holmes toy twice and move on to the fist toy every hour for the rest of the day coming each time.

I started so well limbering up gently and easing myself into a gentle orgasm each time until I got to the fist toy. And then I couldn’t quite pace myself. I was expecting to need to take some time to work the toy in but it just slipped right in first try and it felt so good to be filled up with a fist again that I couldn’t hold back.

I could have used my ten minutes wisely but I fisted myself to a ridiculous over the top orgasm instead that left me hornier and clock watching until the next hour rolled round. The toy slid into my cunt even more easily this time (probably because I’d been re-watching a rope bondage clip I sent my Master last weekend in the meantime…) and I couldn’t hold back from another full on orgasm this time either.

I stayed just as horny for the next hour, scrolling on my phone for more rope bondage stories and clock watching again until I could use the toy for the third time. And this time the orgasm pushed me over the edge in several ways.

I was so drained after the third fist based orgasm all I could do was lie down and sleep. I couldn’t even take the toy out of my cunt before I crashed out. And an hour later I had to text my Master and admit I’d broken myself and cheated myself out of the next five orgasms he’d allowed me.

When will I learn that he knows my body better than me sometimes and I need to listen to his pace not mine…?

fade fist

Fist Me. And Fist Me Again…

Dress Up Doll

As I mentioned the other day my Master does love body modification both as a kink and a rather enjoyable hobby when you are fucking two different women who happen to look very different to each other.

And I aim to please my Master which is why I’ve changed my own body so much since I met him to the point where I see people notice it all the time and look like they want to comment but can’t without showing themselves to be thinking filthy thoughts when they shouldn’t be.

But I enjoyed being able to please him another way this week by helping him modify Princess’s body too. He very generously offered me an opportunity to combine my two great loves of online shopping and smut and look for some fake tits for her to wear day to day.

He set me the task of deciding whether breast forms or enhancers were a better idea and working out the size and shape they needed to be for maximum slutty look and yet comfort to be worn all the time.

Forms are fantastic but best if you are using them with little or no breast tissue behind them so in this case I simply gleaned the advice of crossdressing men and trans women and looked at some enhancers or ‘chicken fillets’ instead which are better for wearing inside a bra to push up what you already have.

My Master of course made the final decision and I was left to be surprised. Although not as surprised as Princess who had no idea what was being planned while she was away with friends at the weekend.

It seemed appropriate to welcome her home with a new body for us to both play with and my Master arranged that we would all play together the night after she returned. He instructed me to give her slutty make up and to wait for him to arrive with his shopping.

I seem to have forgotten blindfolds exist this week and gave Princess the same style of heavy eye make up I often wear and she swears is why people know I’m a slut as soon as they meet me. I wanted to see if it brought out even more of an inner slut in her too but forgot it was likely to smudge on a blindfold.

She managed to be almost as obedient as I am by keeping her eyes shut as my Master came in and ordered her to undress as he filled the new bra he’d bought with the enhancers and he and I dressed her in it. The one advantage to no blindfold was being able to see Princess’s facial expressions as she felt her body feel different but not knowing how.

There was also a matching thong that looked perfect on her ass and then a very tight black dress that slid over the top and showed off all the curves of new bigger breasts, tiny waist and gorgeous ass. All finished off with a long red wig and a pair of high heeled boots that made her legs ridiculously long.

She looked so good there was only one thing to do with her. My Master got her to kneel down and take his cock in her mouth and then ordered her to get up and go out dressed like that with the taste of cock on her lips and go and buy wine from the local shop so everyone else could admire how good she looked too.

 

He would take the opportunity to fuck me repeatedly to orgasm while she showed off her new look in public for the first time and point out to me that he was turning Princess into Candi and I should be flattered…

 

Dress Up Doll

Old Cunt

My phone decided to throw an elaborate shit fit this week with a meltdown the average two year old in a supermarket might consider excessive. There was nothing else for it but to plough through old data to find the cause.

And it was probably the sheer number of cunt shots and videos on there to be frank. Hundreds of images of my cunt obeying my Master’s orders and pleasing Princess. I’m surprised there was room for photos of much else on there at that rate.

But in between having a ruthless clear out of Whatsapp data particularly I was amused to find the very first picture of my cunt I sent my Master from just over two years ago. It looks like the most vanilla cunt in town to the point where I actually didn’t recognise it as my own.

old cunt

I was also amused to find a shot of my unpierced nipples as well which luckily I did recognise without too much confusion. I had a lot of fun with those versions of my body, but nowhere near the pleasure I have with the new obviously kinky changes under my Master’s orders and training.

I definitely don’t ever want to go back again…

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Old Cunt

Prompted

I thought I’d got as far with my waist training as I could. Not as far as the 24″ that my Master set me last year but comfortably into the 26″ corset and used to wearing the waist trainer everyday.

My slight smugness at recently being able to lie down or eat more easily in the waist trainer made me think I’d developed talents I never imagined I’d have when my Master suggested the waist trainer this time last year.

Then I washed my waist trainer just once too often in the machine. And one of the steel bones poked through in a distinctly uncomfortable fashion. Time to buy a new one clearly or risk ruining my glamorous image.

Waist trainers are becoming easier to buy thanks to their popularity with the Kardashians who have brought them mainstream outside Spanish and South American culture where women wear them to support their muscles while they heal after childbirth.

You can pay a lot of money for a waist trainer but I find the more expensive they are the more they make me think of what my grandmother might have called a girdle and tend to look sturdy rather than sexy.

I favour this brand off Amazon which aren’t stupidly expensive, don’t look too practical and provide decent cinching support. Mine lasted a good six months being worn daily and washed regularly until it split on me.

The only downside I discovered is that it also stretches quite considerably in that time. It wasn’t my expertise at wearing it but rather more give in it over the last few months. The replacement one is about 1.5 inches smaller than the well worn one in fact.

And I got quite a shock when I tried to hook the new one up. It was so so much tighter that I thought it wasn’t going to fit. I mean it doesn’t help that it’s quite hard to see over my tits to do it up but a bit of contortion and I had it snug on the second hooks.

If you’ve never worn a waist trainer before you will be shocked by how tight it feels. It really does hold you and compress you and chances are the first week or so, you’ll only manage it for short periods of time at once rather than all day.

But if you’ve ever worn any kind of ‘shaping underwear’ the waist trainer is much easier. It nips you in rather than simply squeezing everything into a different shape and position and gives a much sleeker feel especially under clothes that you can sit and stand in without feeling like it will slide down all the time.

However it’s also designed to ‘use thermal technology to help train your waist’ which means wearing something made of heavy rubber right by your bare skin will make you sweat. I don’t find that a particular issue as I’m a woman who is part lizard but others might it problematic.

In fact reading all the hype about the waist trainer made me really sceptical when my Master suggested it but I’ve fallen in love with it. Princess hates how constricting it feels to her yet for in an example of how opposite we are to each other, I revel in it.

It feels supportive and somehow comforting to be held in like that and putting the new waist trainer on today and being reminded how firm and tight it should be put a spring in my step. Each reminder of it felt like submission over and over again.

Maybe I’ll manage to train my waist that little bit further now I’ve been reminded…?

Prompted