My First Scarification

[content note: blood - but not a whole lot, and behind a read-more]

I’ve written about various ‘first times’ I’ve experienced: my first PiV experience; my first kiss; my first time kissing a woman; my first outdoor sex disaster; my first troll. And there’s been play parties and fisting and overseas visits and exhibitionism and plenty of other things I could write about in the first category … but today I’m going to share my first scarification (will there be another? Maybe sometime).

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Across the Harbour

After taking the train to Williamstown, having lunch, and getting some great photos with the cannons, m’Lady and I wondered if we could manage some photos of me relaxing on the embankment and looking out across the harbour. Don’t try, don’t get, right?

In Williamstown you get a glorious view (at least from this park) across the harbour to the Melbourne CBD. And, from where we sat to eat lunch, we could see the path before us, dogs and people and bicyclists using the path, and a whole lot of seagulls! What you can’t see is the embankment – because it’s on an angle down to the water:

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Fist Me All Year

It’s the fourth annual International Fisting Day (well, it is in the US – it was yesterday in New Zealand), and I’ve had some amazing fisting experiences this year – so now seems like a great opportunity to share them. This year has been all about give and take, and when it comes to hands in *cough* new places, that’s never been more true!

January

Take yourself back to the very first day of 2014. Do you remember what you were doing?

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Loose Cannon

So this is it – the final day of September and my final post for Scavenger Hunt month. And what do you know? The photo I showcased in my link image (this one right here)

is from the location I’m sharing today. Now that’s timing!

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Making an Exchange

When m’Lady and I took our day-trip to Williamstown, on my last visit to Melbourne, we also ran across rather a few Scavenger Hunt locations – some of which we were able to successfully capture, and some which we put in the ‘too-hard’ basket.

But this one – what is this one?



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In the Camp Kitchen

One of the great things about being at Kinky Camp is that no one cares (although they may well admire) if you’re running about half dressed. Or, indeed, entirely naked! So I made the most of it – and Hylas, having marked up my boobs with the evil stick (and with assistance from some fellow campers) was happy to photograph me without most of my clothes. Yay!

Still, much like getting my kit off in the chiller, it felt very strange to be standing in the large industrial kitchen wearing nothing but some very sheer knickers. Surely this was against hygiene regulations or something?

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Falling Water

When Apollo and I were in the Hokianga, we spent a lot of our time doing as little as possible (and fucking). But we did spend one day exploring the region – and in the afternoon we hunted down this track, which we’d seen on the map and then travelled quite a lot of metal road to get to:

I’m not a huge fan of long tramps, but the walk to the waterfall looked lovely (in the click-through? it’s the extremely short, barely noticeable, dotted red line). It was a shit of a hike, up steep steps and slippery paths, to get there. Thankfully, the waterfall was totally worth it!

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Head Down, Arse Up

One of the positions that m’Lady most loves to see me in is one where I have my head down and my arse up. It’s a position that arouses em greatly (as it does me) because not only am I displaying my cheeks, but I also have cunt and arsehole easily accessible.

While I really like that position, aside from it eventually getting hard on the knees, I couldn’t quite grok the appeal of looking at me as I was in it. That is, until I asked my owner to take some pictures for me, so I could see what ey see.

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If I Were a Zombie…

…I’d look much like this: absolutely morgeous!

I’d also probably bite even more often than I do now … (click through to see my ‘focused on brains’ look.)

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The Great Outdoors

I love having sex – I think we all know that by now! And I’m a bit of an exhibitionist, too. Add those together, and outdoor sex is one of those things I really enjoy, even if I don’t do it often. One of those things about outdoor sex, though, is that the potential for amazingness – and disaster – is often increased…

Let’s get the (hilarious in retrospect) disasters out of the way first, shall we? It turns out golf courses use sprinklers – and they turn on about dusk, drenching the hapless couple getting it on nearby. Who knew? Then there’s bamboo. The otherwise excellently concealed piece of parkland where I chose to fling my virginity away – yes, really – had small shoots growing. Right where the small of my back was. Didn’t matter how I repositioned myself, it always ended up just there. It was a toss-up what was less fun, that day. And then there was the day-trip to Picton where rampant horniness got the better of us, and so we put a towel down in the bush by the ferry terminal and went for it. Apparently other people had the same idea, and managed to – literally – stumble across us. Oops!

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