The tightrope walked by the Dom.

The feet of a tightrope walker.
Photo credit: Wikipedia

This is from my  Informed Consent blog, earlier this year:

We had an interesting exchange this morning. A propos something written in our book (which is not rule book, exactly) and fascinating chat at yesterday’s O&P.

Anyway – the deal for us is that what he does is, he says, not for my hurt or shame.

Hurt as in emotional hurt? Yes.

Oh, so pain and embarrassment is OK then?

“Oh, absolutely”, he said. And, after a pause: “You have no idea of the tightrope we Doms have to walk”.

It was a light-hearted conversation, but it has a point.

He likes to hurt me. he likes to see me blush with embarrassment. But, he likes me to look back and glow because he’s made me proud of what I’ve done for him. He says he hates it if I feels, looking back, degraded or shamed by his actions.

Someone else made the point that “it’s because I can trust him [her dom] not to (intentionally) hurt me that I felt able to give up my limits. I know he will push me way outside of my comfort zone, but never so far that will cause me harm. I don’t envy him (or Belasarius) that responsibility”.

Tying Up

Diagram of common shoelace bow knot, a doubly ...
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We’d stopped to pick up pet food and decided we’d grab some supper from the supermarket a few doors away. As we walked, I’m sorry to say I fell into my usual habit – but before he could say “shoulders BACK!” I got in first.

‘Hang on, your shoelace is undone – you might trip over it’.

He stopped, turned and moved his foot forward.

Never let it be said I can’t take a hint: I knelt and tied the lace, nice little bow, pat on the leg to indicate ‘all done’. And we walked on.

Was anyone looking? Didn’t seem to matter. I don’t think they’d have been offended.

Can’t remember what we got for supper but I do remember the first lolly of the year – a Magnum, I’m afraid. Still. sharing it means I didn’t quite blow the diet.

(first published on Informed Consent in June ’09)

Naughty but nice.

English: Erotic scene. Rim of an Attic red-fig...
English: Erotic scene. Rim of an Attic red-figure kylix, c. 510 BC. Français : Scène érotique. Bord d’un kylix attique à figures rouges, vers 510 av. J.-C. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Or, why I like anal sex First and foremost, if I am honest, is the sensation. I can be greedy, of course, and feelings of deep satisfaction (for him as well as me, I hope) are very much desirable.

At the start, the over-riding feeling if a certain fullness – one good reason to be as “empty” as possible from the beginning – and warmth: not the same heat as my lotus, and not as damp, either – but definitely balmy.

But I rush on – so much of the pleasure is before he has even started. From the moment his mouth curves into that special, thoughtful smile, I know what he is going to say. “I’m going to bugger you”. I just want to melt into a little puddle. Or a big one.

Then the lube, carefully warmed on my finger-tips, and generously applied to both tip and shaft. The pleasure of touching him, stroking him, encouraging him – the opportunity for such a personal closeness.

I am just glowing. He will often roger me first, which is wonderful in its own way, and very special. But I know he is almost teasing till the right moment comes, when he says, simply, “turn over”. Then it’s a matter of kneeling, lowering my hips and waiting – sometimes for gentle probing with fingers before the pressure against the sphincter as his cock demands entry, others for an immediate total insertion which feels as if I’ll be torn open but which also makes me feel more submissive than almost anything else. You know, of course, that there are many extra nerve ending there – so anal coitus can be even better than vaginal. And there is the added fillip of being on my knees – though I miss seeing his face! We are experimenting with ways of dealing with this… Then of course there is the “naughty” aspect – by which I mean the taboo of using the dirt road. Perhaps this is the result of a Welsh Baptist upbringing – but it becomes irrelevant in the face of his pleasure. And mine. Did I mention I was greedy?

So – there you have it: anal sex. I’m on my knees, it’s naughty, it makes my bits sore, it’s all about his pleasure. What’s not to like?

Kneeling and waiting for him to decide the how and where of penetration is a challenge, even though I have already consented to “anywhere”. Even when he has announced his intention to bugger me, it is always in his power to change his mind and decide instead to use my mouth or lotus.

Of course, he could decide not to touch me at all. I am learning on a basic level simply to accept: my desires and preferences are irrelevant, unimportant until he decides otherwise.

In terms of my submission, there is another element – and this is linked to pleasing him. I shiver to hear “good girl” at any time, but now there is an absolute fountain of joyous bubbles rising inside me as i hear him say “clever bottom”. For me, it is not enough to give him access and measure my submission by my own standards of generosity. For it to ‘work’, it has to be as complete as possible (or as complete as it can be in our circumstances) and as perfect as we can make it. So I practice – pelvic floor exercises and clenches, not just for the vaginal muscles but also for the rear. When he is taking my bottom, I will try to massage him with gentle muscle squeezes. In a way, this distracts from my pleasure and once again makes it all about his, which is the way we like it.