Fucking and Being Fucked

Posted on | August 1, 2014 | 1 Comment

With a groan I slowly unfolded myself and sprawled flat on on my front, mashing my udders into the bed. I had been on my elbows and knees for a long intense fuck: my hair pulled hard so I would rise up and tense my muscles; my cunt rutted in forcefully, followed by shallow teasing and then more deep plundering. I was feeling aches in all sorts of places – most of them very good.

I wanted to make the most of the break I’d begged to have, so I rolled over to one side, propped myself up on an elbow, and watched the continuation of play with interest. m’Lady called out: “Turn over, fuckpig, and take the same position. I’m not done.” The fuckpig’s face was shiny, showing where I had constantly dripped lubrication and ejaculatory juices onto her as I was fucked. I leaned in to nuzzle her ear and smell my umami aroma on her skin, my owner grasped her buttocks to open wide her holes for plundering. Earlier I’d had my tongue buried in the lovely arsehole now on show, and as I leaned back I could see that it still glistened damply. But that was not the hole m’Lady wanted – yet – and the fuckpig cried out as cock thrust hard into her cunt, and ey began the same forceful fucking I’d been receiving just a minute earlier.

A wail came from the fuckpig’s lips, her head turned to the side so it could escape. She was watching me as I focused on her use. “Yes, you need that cock deep in you, don’t you fuckpig?” At my owner’s words she gave a helpless ragdoll nod, and the slapping and squishing sounds intensified.

It was wonderful to have a rest, to be the voyeur and see just how thoroughly and intensely my owner fucked. I shifted my gaze down the bed, going from from watching the forceful shifting of the fuckpig’s body with every thrust, down to focus on what I craved, always: that delectable cock. To see its firm length slammed in and sliding out. To glimpse, briefly, the piercing in eir frenum, slightly occluded by the condom.

My gaze lifted to m’Lady’s expression, a fierce teeth-bared joyous angry pleasure, punctuated with loud noises at each deep thrust. I wallowed in that look, which was so similar to the one ey wore when fucking deep into me, when my legs were up on eir shoulders for deeper penetration. As ey took the fuckpig I could see it was slightly different: a focus entirely on the fuck, with less of the pride and love I saw when it was me being used.

m’Lady saw me watching, and said, “You’ve rested long enough, my whore cow. Get over here and lubricate this asshole for me – I’ll probably use it soon.” I glanced up at the fuckpig to see her expression. I knew having her arse fucked was one of her desires. I also knew that my owner had sadistically withheld the pleasure, giving her only my tongue in that area.

The fuckpig shuddered down the length of her body, her lips open and her eyes rolling back. “Yes, please, fuck my needy arse!” she begged, but m’Lady ignored her and continued to plow into her increasingly slick cunt. I sat up, looking at m’Lady to see how ey wanted me to prepare this new hole and reaching for the lube which was lying discarded on the bed. “Should I use fingers in the slut’s arse, m’Lady?” I asked.

“Yes,” ey replied roughly. “Build up to three, and work around me – I’m not ready to stop using this wet fuckpig hole.”

I grinned, and after snapping on a black latex glove I drizzled lube down the writhing arse crack and across my hand. I felt her clenching and then suddenly bloom around the tip of my index finger, and so I moved it deeper within her before slowly removing it and returned with a second one in addition. My owner had slowed the pace of eir fucking, which helped me to keep my place and crook my fingers inside her ever so slightly.

I could feel m’Lady’s cock through the thin walls separating cunt hole from arse, and the sensation was delicious. First I could feel a firm solid sliding into a deep thump, past where my fingers nestled. And then a withdrawing, so close I wished I could curl my fingers around eir shaft. Instead I began to rub in little circles with my fingertips: rubbing the fuckpig’s arse walls, and rubbing m’Lady’s cock as it moved beneath me.

“She’s ready for three, my property.” m’Lady’s voice startled me back into action, and I realised I’d once again become distracted by eir cock.

“Yes, m’Lady. Three it is.” Loud grunting and yelping from the fuckpig – the kind which clearly denotes intense pleasure – encouraged me as well, so I withdrew both fingers, added more lube onto my hand, and returned with three. They slid in slow and easy, and I began to starfish my fingers inside her, gently stretching her even further open. My fingers continued to graze the hard cock moving below, but I kept my focus. Stretch fingers out… relax them together. Stretch out… relax. With every stretch a new sound came from the head of the bed, incoherent noises that were the start of a build up to orgasm.

“The pig wants to come, it sounds like,” I observed.

“She’ll come when I give permission and not before. Won’t you, you depraved pig?”

Wailing. Begging. More wailing and a thrashing that made it hard to keep my fingers inserted. m’Lady laughed at her reaction, and I smiled. I’d been in this position before, many a time. She might get an orgasm. But not until she’s completely over the edge – and she wasn’t there yet.

“Is that hole ready, my cumslut?”

“It is, my owner,” I replied.

“Good. Get your fingers out of the way, hold her cheeks open for me. Then I want you to lie down again, with your face under her cunt.”

“Like how she was lying beneath me before?” I asked.

“That’s exactly it, my whore. Get to it.” With that ey began to withdraw, and I swiftly removed my fingers. I removed the glove and repositioned myself so I could hold her arse cheeks apart without being in the way. My own cunt clenched: my fingers had been in there. My tongue. I wanted to be sliding in and penetrating her myself – but assisting as my owner did the penetrating was extremely hot indeed.

I watched eir cock press at her slippery entrance. Heard fuckpig moans. Watched her hole bloom and envelop that long thick shaft. Heard my owner growl deeply. Watched the inexorable slide deeper until all I could see were damply matted curls up hard against her cheeks.

I wanted to come. I really wanted to come.

Instead I did as m’Lady had ordered, and rearranged myself lying down on the bed, my head beneath that open cunt. From the position I lay in I could see the beginnings of the arse fucking – the withdrawal that had me salivating at the sight of cock above me; the clenching of thigh muscles as ey drove eir cock in deep again.

“May I wank, please, m’Lady? I need to touch myself please!” I begged and hoped.

“You may not, cow. Watch as I fuck. Watch it and need it.”

I responded in a small voice: “Yes, my owner.”

I watched the rut continue, and knew my turn – with one or both of them – would come again soon. As my owner wished it.

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Cubical Rubber

Posted on | July 27, 2014 | 16 Comments

It’s not often I get my hands (and other body parts) on something rubber before Hylas has experienced it – he is pretty much the king of all things latex in these parts. So when I was at a femdom skill share event recently and the hosts brought out their vac cube, made by Kink Engineering, I just had to give it a try!

curvaceousdee rubber latex

Unlike the vac bed that I know and love so well, the cube is a newer iteration, and holds the vacuum seal after all the air’s been sucked out. This not only makes it quieter, it also makes my head happier – it’s out and I’m able to breathe easy, and it’s not so challenging for my migraine (which is impacted by noise and pressure).

curvaceousdee rubber latex

If you click the pic above you can see the full front view with the air sucked out. Because it was someone else’s rubber, I stayed dressed – it’s pretty awesome how well you can see the fabric markings!

curvaceousdee rubber latex

Dee wearing jeans, encased in carbonite …

curvaceousdee rubber latex

I really love how my arse (and feet) look like this. If you click you can see the full back view.

One of the advantages of a vac cube is that you can be tipped up, or even over onto your side. That’s not something I experienced, but I’d love to try it at some point! It was very neat seeing it done to the others who gave it a go.

**

Thanks so much to the hosts who let me try, and to Redhead Goddess who took photographs for me!

Sinful Sunday

 

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Intriguing Reading #82

Posted on | July 22, 2014 | No Comments

My semi-regular roundup of interesting reads, found from all over the place.

Content Notes: Discussions about physical injury; harrassment; mental illness

Tips for My Fellow Late in Life Leg Shavers: “Be prepared to feel like a traitor: Maybe this is just me living in a very pro-leg hair community while also carrying Jewish-Catholic guilt but as great as I feel about my decision I can still hear every person with leg hair I pass think, “Wow, look at that sucker caving to patriarchal standards of beauty. I might be a plagiarist who steals old ladies’ purses but at least I’ve remained strong.” Honestly most people aren’t judging you and those that are judging you are forgetting that You Are Allowed To Do What You Want With Your Body In Order To Feel Happy And Safe And Comfortable so you can throat kick those people as well.” (Constance Zaber)

How to Orgasm with Spinal Cord Injury: “What matters is whether or not we enjoy living our bodies. What the descriptions of orgasmic experience tell us — descriptions that are indistinguishable between the women with SCI and the able-bodied women — is that spinal cord injury doesn’t impact the pleasure a woman can have.” (Emily Nagoski / Medium)

The Genderbread Plagiarist: “Trans and gender-non-conforming people weren’t asked by Mr. Killermann to take the lead to speak on any of this. None of the people who’d worked on the concept long before he tumbled onto it on Tumblr were asked whether they’d consented to his unattributed use or interpretation(s) of their work for his own self-branding/self-promotion benefit (which is more the Samuel Killermann Show than it is anything resembling community-based social justice work or advocacy). This is a classic case of intersectional appropriation, if not outright intellectual theft.” (cisnormativity / Storify)

F___ censorship: “Maybe the answer’s simple. We must debate what cannot be debated. Discuss what is forbidden. Consider openly what is blasphemous. If words are all we have left against our entrenched leaders, then perhaps we should wield words as creatively and daringly as possible – through satire or parody, in novels or on the Internet, over Twitter and on the streets, in songs and poetry that prove our minds still independent. Let them know we are watching. That we will not be disrespected and infantilized. That we own our own thoughts, because we own our words.” (Miguel Syjuco / Rappler)

Curbing Online Abuse Isn’t Impossible. Here’s Where We Start: “To truly shift social norms, the community, by definition, has to get involved in enforcing them. This could mean making comments of disapproval, upvoting and downvoting, or simply reporting bad behavior. The best online forums are the ones that take seriously their role as communities, including the famously civil MetaFilter, whose moderation is guided by a “don’t be an asshole” principle.” (Laura Hudson / Wired)

Mental Illness: Not a Flavor, Not an Excuse: “[RPG] Players treat mental illness like a topping on a character, a bit of sprinkles to add to make them more ‘interesting’ with hardly a thought as to what that says about mental illness.” (Shoshana Kessock / Imaginary Funerals)

Vlad Gansovsky - neo bondage MG 5000

Vlad Gansovsky

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Flying the Flag

Posted on | July 20, 2014 | 20 Comments

New Zealand isn’t huge on flags like some nations – but there are still a few around. Enough that you know you’re in New Zealand and not Australia (who have a similar flag – we have four stars; they have six). Places you’re always guaranteed to see the New Zealand flag in Auckland (provided it’s not too windy) are on the top of the Harbour Bridge and in Cornwall Park. Oh my! That’s where Modesty Ablaze, her hubby, and I met up for lunch :)

modestyablaze cornwallpark

No way were we going to miss this opportunity. You’ll have to imagine the glee, but it was there.

curvaceousdee modestyablaze parasol

Of course, being Cornwall Park there were a fair few vehicles and people around. Not that it’s a problem – we just made like tourists until the coast was clear!

curvaceousdee modestyablaze exhibitionism

Wind? Check. Hair everywhere? Check. Clothes pulled up/aside/undone? Check check check!

**

There are more great photos of this location on Modesty Ablaze’s site – Katie’s hubby takes excellent photos!

Sinful Sunday

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Unzipped

Posted on | July 15, 2014 | 3 Comments

The first night of Kinky Camp there was (as there was every night) a play party. As there were a number of spaces to play in, Hylas and I had some choice, and both being a) somewhat overwhelmed by crowds and b) rather knackered from presenting the Rubber Workshop that afternoon, we went for the smaller space – the room we’d presented in, and which was usually colonised by the rope players.

However with the exception of two other people it was deserted: everyone else was out in the courtyard watching a full-on single-tail session. So we made the most of the (relative) quiet and had some play.

Hylas is very good at service topping – while I am definitely still Boss, I am happy to put myself in his hands. To start things off he did some excellent bastinado on my feet, using various wooden implements I’d brought with me. I lay back, blindfolded, and relaxed into the thuddy sensations as he slowly built the firmness up.

When he was getting sore hands (and I was satisfied) he lay down the implements and went fossicking in my toy bag. I’d put all sorts of things into it when packing for camp, and I had no idea what he was hunting for.

Possibly neither did he. But he found my pegs. Specifically, he found the pegs with the string on them. And then he did this with them:

curvaceousdee belly

Now I had no idea what he had planned. I knew he was putting pegs on my belly, and that there was plenty of pinching and tugging (and just a tiny bit of tickling) going on in the process. But I was unaware that they were all strung together in a line, attached and reliant on one another.

curvaceousdee belly

And while I knew he’d put on quite a few, my counting skills were rotten – between floatiness from the bastinado and an increasing pinchy burn from the pegs on the belly I was losing it utterly. Some! I knew there were some!

curvaceousdee belly

I definitely did not know there was a length of string left free at the end, for Hylas to pull on when he decided he was ready. Well, I started to get the idea when he began to tug on it and everything moved. Practice runs, apparently.

When he decided the time was right? He lifted up that string on an angle and pulled hard, and everything unzipped. Nine pegs in a row came flying off me, held together by that string.

curvaceousdee belly

It HURT. Fire across my belly, and I lost my breath before catching it again and then losing it and coming so hard that my whole body bowed up as I spasmed. Behind my blindfold fireworks shot everywhere, and my heels pressed down into the floor before I finally started to unclench, uncurl, relax.

When I could talk again:

“You bastard!

…That was awesome.

Dammit.”

I hate it when he knows before I do that I’m going to love something. But he was, most definitely, correct :)

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I Seek You

Posted on | July 9, 2014 | 5 Comments

Since I first got my own computer - shortly after moving out of home at nineteen – I’ve chatted online. From the early days using ICQ, through to MSN and Google Chat, I remain a nearly daily chatter, currently making use of Pidgin (PC), Xabber (Android) and various XMPP accounts.

When I first started to use chat I learned very swiftly what my comfort limits were. I liked talking with with friends – not strangers randomly bothering me, or the occasional bot. Hence I’ve always set things up so a request needs to be accepted first, and then we’re off :)

Whether it’s been for querying Apollo if we need milk; catching up with what Kiana’s been up to; saying hi to Hylas; or talking dirty with m’Lady, my chat focus is on the people who are important to me in some way. Currently my Pidgin has all of 20 people in it, arranged into four groups. (In days past, I’d have easily over 100, but I’ve gotten pickier over the years.) 

Random ‘A/S/L’ queries have never done it for me, whether in a message on a dating site or elsewhere. So if I’m chatting with you, you know I value you in my life: you’re someone that I want to keep up with more than regular Twitter updates, and definitely more than (very sporadic and mostly missed) Facebook news.

If I seek you out on chat? You’re important to me. But if you’re in my life and you seek me out? Even better.

Filthy chats from the past

Lingering Fingering (with Adonis)
Conversations with my Owner (with m’Lady Tethys)
Overwrought (with m’Lady)

Why chat is so important

Entitled / Property Renewal / Treasured Property (it’s part of my Title Deed)
Cyber Relating (keeping in touch in a long distance relationship)
Fear of Rejection (ways of communication)

**

Want to chat with me? Drop me a line and I’ll give you my address.

image

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Intriguing Reading #81

Posted on | July 1, 2014 | No Comments

My semi-regular roundup of interesting reads, found from all over the place.

Content Notes: discussion of triggers; insulting words; water sports

Let’s Call Sex Work What It Is: Work: ” For every escort who would never give up her privacy by working in a strip club, chancing that someone she knew would come in, there’s a stripper who would never give up her privacy by working in porn or having her image posted online, and there’s a porn performer who would never have sex for money outside the context of a porn shoot.” (Melissa Gira Grant / The Nation)

Scott and Scurvy: “They had a theory of the disease that made sense, fit the evidence, but was utterly wrong. They had arrived at the idea of an undetectable substance in their food, present in trace quantities, with a direct causative relationship to scurvy, but they thought of it in terms of a poison to avoid.” (Maciej Cegłowski)

Triggered: “Speaking about trigger warnings as though they exist for the purposes of indulging fragile sensibilities fundamentally misses their purpose: To mitigate harm.” (Melissa McEwan / Shakesville)

How to Train Your Vagina: “When you feel it’s time to pull out the big guns, don’t be shy with the lube.  Slather up so everything is good and slippery, and keep the bottle handy.” (Lunabelle)

Ten Words to Use Instead of Insane, Crazy, Lame, Gay or Retarded: “I’m ashamed that – as someone who has bastioned the use of “gay” to mean homosexual, fabulous, happy or any of its actual definitions instead of an insult, and who quit using “retarded” a long time ago – it took a conversation I only by chance happened upon on Twitter for me to take a moment to even notice the issues with lame, crazy and insane (crazy and insane are words that degrade people with mental illness, and lame is an ableist term).” (Queerie Bradshaw)

The Most Important Thing Teen Girls Should Do But Don’t: Masturbate: “I’ve never talked to my daughter about masturbating, because, well, we simply don’t talk about female masturbation. We talk about male masturbation. Movies, TV shows, jokes, pop culture references. There is a near endless list of slang terms for men getting themselves off. We talk about teenage boys doing it, adult men doing it. Boys and men talk to each other about doing it. But when it comes to women, it’s near radio silence.” (Jenny Block / Jezebel)

Cyanide and Happiness 11-30-2013

Cyanide and Happiness

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Chilly

Posted on | June 8, 2014 | 25 Comments

What else are you going to do when you have a very cold room (aka chiller) just off the industrial kitchen at your campsite? That’s right, I’m going in!
image

And it is cold!
image

Brrrrrrr. I am regretting going in barefoot, that’s for sure…
image

Very nipply. But fun!
image

*grin*

**

Thanks to Hylas for taking photos both here and in the kitchen (still to come)!

Sinful Sunday

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Relaxing in the Hokianga Sunshine

Posted on | June 1, 2014 | 25 Comments

Seems like I am so slow to get around to writing about my amazing experiences, these days! Earlier this year Apollo and I took a much-needed break and travelled up to the Hokianga, which was an area of New Zealand neither of us had been to before. We stayed at a friend’s holiday home for 5 glorious days, with absolutely nothing planned except relaxation time.

Relax we did! We slept in, fucked (on the very very creaky bed), read a whole bunch, fucked in the sunshine, played Scrabble, watched out-of-date TV shows, and fucked some more. Oh, and spent one day exploring the Hokianga area, too, but the photos from that exploration are for another post.

These photos are from after our outdoor sex shenanigans, as I was post-orgasmic, relaxed, and very very happy. It’d been a long time since he and I had fucked outside, and as a bonus, he’d helped me to realise one of my long-held fantasies – so I was like a cat in cream! (As the prompt for today’s Sinful Sunday is black and white, you can see colour versions if you click through on each image.)

curvaceousdee fat naked relaxed

curvaceousdee fat naked relaxed

**

Everyone deserves relaxing holidays with the people they love.

Sinful Sunday

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Tomorrow

Posted on | May 31, 2014 | 2 Comments

Tomorrow is the day that I’ve been waiting for: it’s the day where I fly back over to Melbourne.

Tomorrow I will be back with m’Lady, my owner, for two whole weeks.

Tomorrow I will be on an aeroplane for four hours, wearing my knee-high boots, a short dress and no underwear. My tag will be shiny in my ear. My face will be bright with smiling anticipation. My aroma of arousal may possibly be noticeable, if you’re close enough.

Tomorrow my hand luggage will contain:

  • my collar, ready to put on after customs
  • a comfortable buttplug
  • smartballs for my cunt
  • two single sachets of lube

Tomorrow, after I have been through customs in Melbourne I will visit the airport bathroom to put in my smartballs and plug, filling two of my three holes. I may masturbate, just a little. Then I will go and catch a taxi to m’Lady’s house.

Tomorrow I will be tempted to offer the taxi driver oral services in return for the journey. I will definitely be tempted to show them what’s under my dress. I will want to wank as they drive me to my owner. Of course, I can’t get the passenger’s seat damp … that would be wrong. So mostly I am just tempted. Still, who knows where the conversation will go?

Tomorrow I will arrive at m’Lady’s after dark, wearing my fuck-me boots and my use-me dress and my you-own-me collar and tag. I will arrive in a waft of my own arousal, wet with cunt juices and mouth juices, ready to drop to my knees in the hallway and worship at m’Lady’s crotch. I will orgasm as my owner slides eir cock into my mouth.

Tomorrow all my holes will be used and filled and fucked by m’Lady. Tomorrow my face will be slapped, over and over - something I have masturbated to the thought of for weeks.

Tomorrow will be intense. And tomorrow will be just the beginning.

curvaceousdee smile plaits

Photographed by m’Lady during my last visit, a year ago.

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