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Showing posts from February, 2018

Blank Canvas

Blank Canvas by Kilted Wookie The skin of her naked backside; pale and smooth; a blank canvas worthy of a masterpiece. But how to mark it? What tool to choose leave an imprint on that unblemished flesh? The hand: the familiar sound of skin striking skin. Feeling the surface warm as the skin reddens in response to the repeated firm application of my palm. The belt: that stinging crack. The broad, deep crimson stripes. Her moans in response to the kiss of the leather. The cane: whip-like and slender. That ominous “swoosh” as at arcs through the air to land on her. The narrow angry welts. Her sobs as it bites her. The slipper: teasing and playful. Firmer than the hand, but softer than the belt. Spreading its glow over a wider area than both. So many options… So many choices… The climax: streaks of white. Warm and sticky on her now over-sensitised skin. The finale: the soothing lotion gently applied. The soft words of comfort. The tender embrace.

You Scratch My Back...

I’ll be honest, I’ve never really been one for leaving bite or scratch marks on my partners’ skin. If I’m going to leave a mark, it’ll be that of my hand, or my belt, causing the skin on their arse to glow a deep, rosy red. Even as a youngster, I was never really into leaving love-bites on whichever girl I was going out with at the time or, even less so, have her leave them on me. So, on the whole, when it comes to leaving any kind of mark on a partner’s skin, while I may be a “spanker” or a “belter”, I am not a “scratcher”. Having said that, when you are on the receiving end, it can be a very effective form of non-verbal communication. If I am going down on a woman, if she is digging her fingers into the skin of my shoulders or the back of my neck/head, I can usually be pretty confident that I’m doing something with my lips and tongue that she is enjoying.  If these involuntary movements are accompanied by pleasurable moans, sighs and/or cries, then I can take it that

All Tied Up

Restraint/bondage is one of those things that doesn’t actually feature very prominently in my repertoire of things I do and almost never makes it on to the list of things I have done to me. It’s not that I have anything against restraining my partner; it is something I enjoy on those occasions that it happens, it’s just simply something that I don’t do very often. On those occasions when it has happened, I will confess it is never very sophisticated. I marvel at the intricacy of the rope-work some bloggers display. The suspension photos that Cammies On The Floor posts have frequently taken my breath away. For me, it has always been fairly rudimental and perfunctory; tying my partner’s hands to the headboard, and their feet to the legs of the bed, or tying their wrists and ankles to a chair. Often this will also involve some kind of blindfold and/or gag to increase their vulnerability. It is a not so subtle power-play, but it is also a very strong statement of trust on the

Word for Wednesday - Recovery

Recovery /rɪˈkʌvərɪ/ noun the act or process of recovering, esp from sickness, a shock, or a setback; recuperation restoration to a former or better condition the regaining of something lost When it comes to depression, and indeed many other afflictions, both mental and physical, recovery is a lengthy process. Depending on the seriousness of your particular affliction, it may respond to a single course of treatment, or it may take much longer with many setbacks and reversals along the way. For me, sadly, it is the latter. My recovery period can be measured not just in years, but in decades (so far, three decades to be precise). It follows a long and winding path, made familiar by repetition. The waypoints and landmarks provide a certain comfort in their familiarity, but it is comfort that is heavily tinged with the regretful knowledge that I have passed this way many times before. It’s not an exact process. Not every stage is encountered on every pass, nor do the

Black Holes & Revelations

Usually, a post on a Monday would carry a link to Kayla’s wonderful #MasturbationMonday page. Sadly, however, this is not one of those posts. Once again, I have been down in the deepest of holes, where only the very faintest glimmer of light manages to penetrate. My head, these last few days, has been the very darkest of places. The constant voice in my head has been particularly insistent. It’s been a time of withdrawal, both online and in real life; a time to shut myself off in an attempt to drown out the nagging, pervasive internal voices that tell me I don’t want to be alive. It’s dark, it’s oppressive and it is extremely lonely, even with friends and family surrounding me and supporting me. There is a desire, a yearning for the peace of oblivion and there is knowledge that such peace is beyond me, because I am not prepared to give up; for the benefit of those who love and care about me if not actually for myself. It’s a daily struggle. It’s another battle being waged

The Taste Of Things To Come

I’ve written before about how much I love cunnilingus and how it taps into my sensualism . I have also mentioned how much I enjoy getting my cock sucked . The truth is, I enjoy sex and all aspects of sexual activity. Oral sex has many aspects. It can be used as a form of foreplay; each partner taking it in turns (or sometimes simultaneously) to drive the other wild with their lips and tongues. It can also be a fully satisfying act in its own right; being brought, or taking your partner to a climax. The thing about it is, whichever of the above scenarios is being played out, the pace is being set by the giver. If you are the one performing it on your partner, you are the one that is in control. As the giver, I love to be able to take my time, to luxuriate, to feast; prolonging my partner’s pleasure for as long as possible. I can set the pace, I can, to an extent, control the duration. I can enjoy my partner’s pleasure fully, without having to concern myself with my own. I definit