A kinky conundrum.

The last week or so has been one of discussion and contemplation in the main for me.

A few things had mounted up between R and I, and I'd been bottling my emotions and problems up. I know that's not exactly the best way to resolve, well, anything. But it doesn't mean it's any easier to just be upfront.

In the end, enough came to a head that last weekend, conversations were had. We discussed many things, one of which being our slightly misaligned sex drives (He reckons mine is higher than anyone else he's known... pfft.) - and I think we both understand one another slightly better on that front now.

Leading from that we also talked about our kinkier sides and what they mean to each of us.
In essence, our difference there is that for R, a bit of BDSM is for the bedroom, between us, and as an addition or prelude to sex. Now, for me, of course there is a sexual link in that kink and BDSM does get me hot - but it isn't necessarily a starter or a side dish... It could be the main event or at least an integral part of an activity in its own right. Getting that out on the table was positive, as it allowed us to recognise where the other was coming from.

He visited a fetish club near here years ago, before we got together. He didn't have a great time, due mostly to fairly external factors, but he also felt as though he'd explored that side of himself, and fulfilled the curiosity he'd experienced in that event. I, however, have never been to a club. I've been to a few munches now, and have kinky friends (as an aside, some of the friends I've made "on-scene" have been some of the best friends a girl could ask for, by comparison to former friends of mine), but so far my "scene experience" has been one hundred percent social.

As I mentioned earlier, we had quite extensive discussions last weekend. One of the things R raised was my need for kink, and a need he said he didn't feel he was fulfilling, or possibly could fulfill.

He brought up that he would be fine with it should I choose to engage in play with some of my kinky friends, as he knows that BDSM would be as far as it would go, and it would be strictly sex free... Which of course, it would be.

I've thought about it quite a lot since then, and I think I'm no further forward than I was a week ago. I don't know how I feel about that. I really don't. My mind keeps flip-flopping between thinking it'd be a great outlet for my kink side, and as the Mr and I discussed, take some of the perceived (from his side) pressure off him to be kinky as well as offering sex, and that I'd likely come home to him so wound up I'd tear him to shreds... to on the other side, thinking I might not be able to handle it at all and maybe I'd just feel really guilty and that, even though I may well have permission, I'd been unfaithful.

In the midst of this, in all honesty, I don't know if I feel like my kinky friends truly understand.

I'll get back to you when my head has stopped going round in circles. 

NK x

Last Night

He appeared behind me. The evening had been tame, we'd each not long been home from visiting family at Easter. Suddenly, his lips graze my neck, accompanied by the savagery of his teeth delicious pain, as he tastes my flesh... His hands roam to my breasts, for they are his to use, with his hot breath still at my neck, I am commanded: "Stand up." A pause, then further instruction, "and turn around". I rise, and face him. He pulls me in, and kisses me. Roughly, passionately, hungrily. His tongue probes my mouth, caressing and using my own. My vest is removed, and my bra in quick succession. His eyes feast upon my breasts, quickly followed by his hands... Their sumptuous delicate nature in harsh contrast to his abuse of my nipples, making me stretch and contort and pain and joy. He tugs down my black jeans, leaving me in only my girly Hello Kitty knickers. Commands come forth once more, I am to turn, and bend over. The seconds between assuming this vulnerable, exposed position and his return to my behind feel like hours. The first sharp stings lash across my backside, only slightly dulled by my knickers. He pauses only long enough to pull down my knickers, then begins to swing the flogger once more. Direct contact to my fleshy bottom, and the flogger cracks me harder. And harder. And harder. I cry out. Restrained, as far as I can.. I know we have at least one housemate at home. But also because I want to take this and more. To cry out too hard would be some kind of weakness. My arse grows hotter as the strikes land in quick succession Just when I think he's never going to stop, I hear the flogger land on the bed. I stay still, I haven't been told to move. I feel his hands part my bum cheeks, holding the fleshy mounds apart, my hole exposed. His tongue quickly skims across my my asshole. I can't hold back my cries, such delicious ecstasy. His tongue laps furiously, circling me, then dipping. He delves deeper and I work not to scream. As he comes back up, he frees his cock, pushes me further over, and takes me. As he fucks me, he drags his nails down my back. I hear myself moan, and don't care. As my back arches, he grabs a fistful of my hair, and pulls, hard.

He stops, slick from my juices. I'm told to stand, and face him. He kisses me forcefully once more before commanding me to kneel. I drop to my knees, as he strokes himself in my face. "Take it" he tells me, and I take his cock into my mouth. As I suck, lick and lap at his glistening cock, I'm ordered to play with my tits. I feel his cock stiffen further in the final throes of pleasure, as he forces himself further into my face. I swallow every drop.

NK x

A Little Girl's Need for Submission.

I remember being 17. In a rock club, the rock scene still new enough to me that I still felt mildly intimidated, a little on edge. The music was loud, and the heavy basslines reverberated through my body.

Suddenly, a hand strikes my ass. I stop, and turn. Ready to tear the head off some adolescent wanker who feels any female is his possession to do with as he pleases, I draw breath. Then feel it exit me, as I see it is, in fact, the girl I've been crushing on since we were first introduced some weeks prior.

Everything stops.

The world around us seems to lack all significance, as there is only us. The marshmallow softness as her lips meet mine, countered swiftly by her forceful yet deliciously erotic tongue dancing over my own, playing in my mouth. Girl kisses are different to boy kisses. This is a fact, I'm sure of it. (Truth be told, while I love R and wouldn't change him for the world... I do miss girl kisses!)

 I also remember, every bit as vividly, her question to me, some time later. "Do you like bondage?" The truthful answer would have been "Erm, I have no idea, you're the first woman I've kissed, I'm still pretty inexperienced, and I've never been tied up or down in my life... but the idea excites me". What I said was "...maybe", with a devilish grin.

 I was so desperate not to seem as inexperienced and vanilla as I was - perhaps as that had never felt much like who I really was? Part of that, though, was undeniably caused by her. The relationship was, at the best of times, subject to her mindfuckery, and she didn't exactly treat me especially well.

Now though, I can look back and see that while she was never a good girlfriend, perhaps she'd have made a good play partner? I wasn't in the right place for that then though, so I don't dwell on it too much. The relationship may have had it's problems - to say the least - but the fire that grew from the spark she created still burns bright. I still need to be someone's little girl, to be submissive and be Dominated, to be told what to do and to serve. To feel the most alive I could ever feel while my limits are tested, and feel the rush so great that nerves across my body feel like they're about to explode. I suspect I always will.

NK x