The appeal of debasement 


Image credit: Splooshworld

As someone who considers herself a fairly strong woman who very rarely takes any kind of shit, I’m frequently surprised by my desire to be sexually debased. I know many people reading this will be able to explain why this may be and I understand it myself – what we desire in “life” and in sex are very different – and yet still the question persists… whhhhyyyy? As a victim of sexual assault, why would I be drawn to encounters of roughness, humiliation and power play? Why would I essentially want to disregard an element of my humanness at such a vulnerable moment?

If I put on my rational hat, I’d probably think it has something to do with being able to take back some measure of control or rewrite an unpleasant situation. It makes a lot of sense when you consider it that way. Yet it surprises me that things that happened so long ago could still be in play when it comes to my desires. Or is it that they became intrinsically linked to my desires when they occurred? Probably a bit of both. Also, I think that, as someone whose experimented a lot and watched a lot of porn, maybe I’m desensitised and looking for something that makes me feel more. Not that sex without intimidation, humiliation, etc. is boring… Hmmmm, I actually don’t know where I’m going with this line of thinking. 

When I watch porn, I vary to extremes; either I like the nicely shot stuff with the attractive people and the respectful looking sex or I like when the girl is treated like a mostly inanimate plaything, usually with more than one guy. I don’t want her to be crying or anything like that but I’m ok with some visual discomfort and rough housing. The men view her as something attractive to play with. If she feels pleasure it’s purely incidental, a by-product of their actions or maybe something they instigate for their amusement but never the main focus. What matters is what they take from her and the visible and audible pleasure they get from using her body. 


Image credit: Storify

For myself, I haven’t really explored how far down the rabbithole I’m willing to go. Thoughts of being owned, commanded, verbally debased, physically overpowered and shared at will are all highly arousing. When I read about it, I want to experience it for myself – but always in submission to a man. Gender plays a huge role in it for me; somehow it’s not as appealing to be dominated by a woman. The element of power, strength and danger seem to fall away even as I know I could be just as easily be overpowered and controlled by a woman. Who do I think I am?! I’m tiny, a ten year old child could probably overpower me! A man with a female accomplice is gettting back on track but not a woman on her own. It’s fucked, I know, but the crotch wants what the crotch wants (crude as it is). There’s actually a small part of me that’s attracted to dominating another woman but it’s definitely not as defined as the part that wants to submit – to be debased, humiliated, controlled, belittled, manipulated, used. Whatever word you prefer, it amounts to this: to be made to not feel like a person in any sexual sense of the word, to be just a plaything, an object someone can treat as they will and for their own pleasure. 


Image credit: Polyvore 

But then again, how many of our fantasties turn out to be less than stellar once realised? I could think I want it and then realise it’s way too confronting. Who knows? The mind is a fickle thing. 

Thoughts about swingers clubs (that kind of got a little out of hand)

We’ve gone on a few dates with this girl who told us she’d recently been to a swingers’ club on her own and hooked up with another girl. After telling us the story, she asked if we’d ever been/wanted to go to one. I said I did but Jared isn’t/wasn’t keen.

I actually used to work in one when I was about 18/19. It was a brothel on one side and a swingers’ club on the other, just on Saturday nights, if I remember correctly. I think it was also a strip club some nights too. God, it was so long ago. Anyway, I worked behind the bar, which wasn’t licensed to serve alcohol so the patrons brought their own in and we stored it for them, sold them mixers and mixed their drinks. It was actually a really fun job, if a little slow at times. Especially when everybody disappeared up to the rooms and into the spa baths.

When there was no one around to serve mixers to, it was my job to pick up the empty glassware and bottles and I would find an excuse to wander into the various rooms, ostensibly under the guise of tidying up. Of course, I wouldn’t go into any rooms with closed doors and, if people were ‘busy’, I would just glance at them and move on. I knew enough at the time not to be intrusive. It was one of those clubs that allowed couples and single women only. No single men. Couples would often invite me to join them but I only ever remember seeing a few women I was interested in. I would always say I wasn’t allowed to play but one time I broke and made out with one of the women while I fending off her partner, who I wasn’t interested in. She was beautiful – mixed race or at least brown skinned like me. The specific details are a bit fuzzy 15 years on.

Regardless, this girl bringing up swingers clubs got me interested in them again. And, like a goddamn Xmas miracle, I turned a page in The Ethical Slut and – shazam! – there’s a Public Sex, Group Sex and Orgies chapter. Oh my god, I thought. All my Christmases have come at once. It’s a sign! Of what I’m not sure but I thought I’d at least write about it.

Despite Jared’s reluctance, I would definitely be keen to go to one. I know there are a few in Sydney so it’s not like we don’t have the option one day down the track. Thinking of it, my mind runs wild with the possibilities. You might have guessed that I like to watch, which is what I tell Jared we could stick to if we were to go. We don’t have to participate. In fact, for our first visit, it would probably be better if we just watched then went home (and fucked) and discussed how it made us feel. Then, if the general consensus was that we felt good and it was a turn on, we could go back and see what else eventuated. For me, watching alone is plenty of fun. Seeing another couple or group of people all tangled up in one another, enjoying each other’s bodies, hearing the sounds of sex. Live and not on the internet. It’s part of what makes it so hot for me to see Jared with other women. That voyeuristic element where you’re watching something that’s normally so private and intimate (or, in the case of Jared and other women, that’s traditionally just reserved for me).

Of course, the adventurous part of me would eventually want to get involved in some way. Even just flirting with someone who’s not your regular partner in a sexually charged environment would be exciting and something I would imagine to be so different from going on a date in a normal public place. Flirting in a swingers club where you may or may not be scantily clad (or nude) and with even the slimmest possibility that you might fuck that person – oh my! The naughtiness of it all. The rush of being new and intriguing to that person, of finding out about them, playing that game of body language and eye contact that is most intense between people who have never actually fucked (in my opinion at least – I know it can still happen after you’ve fucked but I don’t think it’s ever quite the same).

I’d want to be able to look over and see Jared deep in conversation with another woman. Giving her his undivided attention as I’ve seen him do so many times with women who’ve taken his fancy. He’s an excellent flirter. Much more aggressive than I am (not in a bad way, just more forward). He makes them feel like they’re the only person in the room, which they pretty much are at that point. He’s very tactile and not afraid to move in for the first kiss. While he’s getting to know her, maybe I’m flirting with her partner and, seeing as we’re all hitting it off, we decide to move to one of the rooms.

The idea of being naked in front of a man that isn’t Jared is a little bit scary and a whole lot exciting. I’d imagine that we’d all end up on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs. The girls kissing, each couple kissing, everyone taking turns kissing. In my wildest dreams, the boys would also kiss and, you know what, this is my fantasy so, fuck it, they’re kissing too! Fucking another man with Jared deep inside another woman right next to me would have to be pretty high on my fantasy list.

I’d be able to hear his noises and her noises while also enjoying the attention of another man, feeling a different cock with a different rhythm inside me. I love hearing Jared make other women come. And then hearing him come as well. I think that would probably be enough to send me over the edge – if the guy I was fucking needed any kind of extra assistance, that is.

God. Didn’t this take a sudden turn. I think I need to get back to writing my erotic fiction. Will start brainstorming ideas, which is always the hardest part for me.

More on the “company” promised in the last post

So in my last post I mentioned that we had some “company” during our honeymoon. That company was Marie who we’ve been off and on trying to seduce for over a year now. We’d had some success but, in the end, the kibosh was put on it all because she was the ex of one of Jared’s bartenders and she didn’t want to make it weird. However, he no longer works for Jared (and it was ages ago) so when we asked her on a date, about a week before the wedding, she accepted and we had a very lovely yet very innocent dinner. At the end of the night, we made plans to catch up when we were back from the wedding.

After the nuptials, we had a few nights booked in an Airbnb on the Northern beaches of Sydney. This place had all the essentials: pool, epic bath tub, lots of tanning space, good kitchen. We suntanned, cooked every night and drank wine, had lots of baths and read our books. It was glorious. And it only got better when Marie agreed to come up and visit us on our last day. We drank mimosas in the sun until it clouded over. Jared made us lunch and we had an impromptu bikini-clad to topless photo shoot (well, all topless for me considering I never wear a bikini top) on this weird psychedelic My Little Pony-esque papier-mache sculpture the guy had in the house. I’m not even kidding you – that is an honest to god factual description of this thing.

Then we ventured upstairs and Marie and I hopped in the bath. Marie is going through a self proclaimed “70s phase” so she was sporting the first full bush I have seen in a looooooong time. Not to say it was bad, it was just very novel. It wasn’t long before Jared climbed in (after a random burping contest between Jared and Marie for which we found no clear winner because we all got ‘distracted’) and then we all rolled into bed. I will say that she is very skilled with her tongue. She made me come in record time. And watching her and Jared together and Jared and me and all of us entwined as always is a hugely erotic experience.

I think we were all a little star struck with one another because it was such a long time in the making. We played around in bed until dinner time (Jared cooked again – what a good husband he’s turning out to be) and then had icy poles and got back into bed again and played around some more. She stayed over (probably because we were so far away from her home) but slept in a different room because she has insomnia and couldn’t take her usual medication because she’d been drinking. In the morning, Jared made us french toast and we all drove home.

We’re in the process of making plans to see her again but in the meantime we’re still chatting to a few people on Tinder, Bumble, etc.

On a separate note: I’m conscious that my sex writing has dropped off somewhat (read: a lot) and I definitely didn’t do this story justice. I’m going to do my best to get back to writing less self consciously about this, both for my fiction and non-fiction. Work in progress over here, folks! I’ll get better, I promise.

Sometimes things just seem to fall in your lap in the best possible way 

With the wedding planning taking up most of my free time, I haven’t had much opportunity to go on Tinder or any other social dating sites for that matter (although I think Jared still managed to). Yet the universe works in mysterious ways, once you stop looking, it seems likeminded people just somehow find you. 

We had a random night out a few weeks ago where a few friends came back to our house and one of the girls jumped me quite unexpectedly. We ended up having a threesome with her that involved her asking for rough sex (something Jared isn’t normally comfortable with although maybe that’s just with me 😬) and anal (which Jared was more than happy to accommodate). Jared fucking another woman’s ass – at her request – was something I found extremely hot and resulted in quite a replenishment of “wank bank” material for me and some hot sex for us while she slept and we watched TV on the couch. 

Another new female friend is newly experimenting with couples and has expressed an interest in sleeping with us, although her insistence that she needs to be drunk to go through with it makes me not so keen. If you have to get hammered to do something, you probably shouldn’t be doing it. Although, that being said, a drink or two to steady your nerves is totally acceptable in my book. 

The night after our wedding night, one of my good friends – who I’d tried to have a threesome with over ten years ago but we’d never been able to agree on a guy – decided she was ready and climbed into bed with me and Jared. We’d previously agreed that I should be the first person Jared fucked after our wedding day (we were too tired the night of our wedding to consummate) but, on the spur of the moment, I decided it would be hotter and naughtier if the first person he fucked as a married man was another woman – so that happened. She has the most beautiful body and is closer to Jared’s height so he was able to do a lot more with her position-wise and be a bit rougher than he normally would with me (because I’m so small). Plus I have a huge fascination with how other women sound when they’re having sex and/or cumming so it was really hot. 

To be honest, there was a lot of sex and group sex happening around the resort – one of my girlfriends had a foursome with two gay guys and one straight guy that basically just involved them all making out and exclaiming how beautiful and soft and gorgeous she was and the straight guy going down on her. Frankly, I was upset not to have been invited! Also, I would’ve been greatly disappointed if there wasn’t any group sex (aside from my own) at my wedding. Everyone would’ve gotten a lecture about how to be more adventurous – just kidding (or am I?). 

PLUS we have Marie back in the picture – her of girl pash-a-thon in the bar bathroom fame who also went to second base with Jared (or was it third? I never knew what the bases were, seeing as I was kind of always an all the way girl) but then she got weirded out because she used to see one of Jared’s bartenders. Anyway, the bartender in question no longer works for Jared plus it’s been over a year now. She made contact with us so we took her on a date a week before our wedding and she might be coming up to our mini-moon house tomorrow to sunbake and laze by the pool. We’ll see what happens there. 

All this on top of the usual random kissing and making out that happens with our friends when everyone gets together for a fun time. 

Still, the traditional part of me thinks we should spend this newly married time focusing on one another and revelling in each other’s company but does it really matter? We are who we are. We’ve been together ten and a half years and I don’t see us being with other people as us loving each other any less. So long as Jared can still make me feel special while pursuing these other women (he’s been the only one doing any pursuing of late) then I’m fine with it, seeing as I benefit from it as well (being bisexual and also liking seeing my partner with other women). 

I’m going to try and not overthink it (for once!) and let things develop naturally. As long as it all remains open, honest and respectful then it will be fine. 

Watching

Watching can be a very sexual experience. Or, at least, for me it is.

  • I like watching porn
  • I would like to go to a swingers club and watch others have sex
  • I like watching my boyfriend have sex with other women
  • I would like to watch him with another man but he insists on being straight
  • I used to like people watching me when I was naked/stripping/dancing. I’d probably still like it but I’d be a bit more self conscious/less confident now
  • I’m ok with people watching me have sex but it’s not as much of a turn on as watching other people.

What is it about watching that makes things super hot? Is it that you’re that little bit removed so you can truly appreciate the sensuality of what’s going on without being caught up in it? Or is it the naughtiness of it, the peeping-tom aspect, even if the other people know you’re watching? Or perhaps it’s the fact that you’re being ‘forced’ to stay at arm’s length, that you’re not only allowed to get involved and all you can do is follow the action with your eyes, waiting for permission to be granted so you can join the party?

I suspect it’s all of these, depending on the situation. Although porn is probably just the need to watch something stimulating to assist with masturbatory activities. Which reminds me, I can’t remember the last time I watched porn. I’ve been so swept up in my own fantasies, mostly based on the little stories I’ve been posting on here, that I haven’t needed any visual aids in that department. Which is a bonus because, while I love porn, I truly hate the search for the perfect porn clip.

There’s so much crap out there and you have to watch a decent amount of each video before you realise, nope, this isn’t the one for me. I mean really, how many rough, inter-racial, MMF threesomes or filthy cum-slut gangbangs can a girl watch before getting disheartened? Why do you look so horrified? Is that not the type of porn you watch? Ah well. Anyway, the answer is a lot.

Writing about sex

Erotic fiction is one of my favourite things to write but, like the real thing, I kind of have to be in the mood for it. Usually, I’ll have a flash of inspiration for a particular theme or scene and just run from there. I actually still spend a decent amount of time blushing and feeling a bit silly while also being incredibly turned on, i.e. quite literally dripping wet. Sadly, Jared is rarely around when I’m writing my stories so I often have to take care of myself when I’m done. What a hard life I lead. 😉

Once I have the basic idea in mind, I’ll get started. I usually just have a general idea for a scenario or setting. I’ll start writing and sometimes it’ll fit in one post and others it will start getting too long (in my opinion) so I’ll break it up. The multi-part format also buys me some time if I’m not sure where to go next or how to end it (which happens quite often). Is she going to fuck him or just let him eat her pussy or maybe just let him watch her strip and then walk off? You know, all the burning questions that need answers.

When I can’t decide what happens next, the easiest solution is to let my clit decide for me. I’ll take a time out and play with myself while thinking about various possible endings. What about if we make them do this? Hmmmm… maybe. Or he could do that to her? No, that doesn’t work. Or what about if she…? YES! YES! That’s it. Whatever idea works best for me in those moments is what I go with in the story. A very standard literary process, I’m sure you’ll agree. 😉 Plus surely it’s good to know that your filthy little erotic fiction writer is giving your stories a rigorous testing before presenting them to you. I’ve got to be sure they’ll do the trick before putting them out in the big, wide world.

When I started writing about sex, it was mostly just about my fantasies for me and Jared but it has gradually morphed into pure fiction. Yes, there’s always an element of my own personal fantasies but I’ve moved away from actually having us in the story. I’m also finding that I’m drawn to strong female characters who act as the sexual aggressor. Even if it’s rough or the guy is older or more experienced, the woman seems to be the one in charge. Although lately I’ve been toying with a new idea, something very different with maybe a little more violence or coercion, something that pushes the boundaries of consent. I’m not sure. I only have a very small scene playing in my head at the moment so I still have to figure out the rest of the story. Or maybe I just need to start writing it and it will come to me.

The terrible no good day that eventually got better – part 2

Back to the start

Where we left off:

He stood up and paced the office thinking business thoughts business thoughts business thoughts until his cock subsided. Just as he was starting to feel in control of himself again, there was a knock at the door and Jen’s face poked into his office, her ponytail swishing in behind her. 

“Sir, they’ll be ready for you in about 20mins. Do you need anything?”

***

Jen had planned to tease John all day then suggest going for a drink after work and see where the night took them (hopefully straight to Poundtown). That would be the sensible thing to do, the ladylike thing. But as soon as she sat at her desk – Abbey’s desk – she knew she wasn’t going to wait that long. Fuck that, it had been a month since she’d last laid eyes on a dick and she’d be damned if she was going to wait all day just for the sake of formality.

When Abbey had first come to her with this idea, Jen had been skeptical. She’d just broken up with a real dickhead and wasn’t sure she wanted to get back on the horse so to speak, despite being a bit of a man-eater before this last fucktard. Abbey had told her all about John and how great a guy he was, how down he’d been after his divorce. Not that Abbey wanted him to be a pity fuck, just that Jen was really missing out on someone who could be fun and not a total asshole.

“If he’s such a great guy, why don’t you fuck him?” Jen had asked over dinner and wine one night.

“I don’t mix business with pleasure,” Abbey smiled. “But, trust me, if I’d met him in a bar, I’d be sucking him off in the toilets within 30mins. No joke,” she said as she downed her wine with a devilish grin.

Abbey had shown her pictures and told her more stories about him and, eventually, Jen had come around. She was ready for some no-strings fun. Why not make it with someone her friend could vouch for? Once Jen was onboard, Abbey went into business mode, running Jen through her plan.

“Why can’t I just meet him in a bar or something? You know, like normal people?” she asked, exasperated with all these seeming complications.

“Because he won’t go for that. Trust me, I know this man. This is going to work.”

Luckily, Jen was a master PA, just like Abbey, because the plan required that she learn Abbey’s job so she could replace her for one day. Abbey would then cover for Jen at her work.

Jen smiled to herself as she walked towards the office. She was looking forward to meeting John, a man Abbey seemed to think was perfect for her. Or at least perfect for her to play with. She barely noticed the heads she was turning as she walked through the foyer, her hips swaying in her red dress and her sky high heels click click clicking across the tiles. Normally, she’d revel in that shit but today… today she had one purpose and that was to seduce this man.

She arrived extra early so he wouldn’t be in yet. That would give her time to get things ready so she could be in the right position when he arrived. About 20mins later, the lift doors opened and he stepped out. He looked just like the photos Abbey had shown her – handsome and trim. Dark hair slicked away from his forehead. Clean shaven. God, he rocked that suit. He was just her type. She took a sharp breath in and started re-arranging stuff on his desk. Putting them in the order she knew he liked.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pause when he first caught sight of her. Good, he liked what he saw. She put on her most work-acceptable seductress smile and went into ‘I’ve got this covered’ mode, running through all the things she knew would put him at ease and make him confident in her abilities. All the while noticing the way his eyes followed her around the room, drinking her in. She even noticed when he slid the newspaper in front of his swelling cock; he didn’t hide it as quickly as he should have. Not that she minded. That bulge told her everything she needed to know and pretty much shattered her resolve to wait until the end of the day to have him.

Once back at her desk, she decided to skip the work hours holding pattern and go straight to an emergency landing. She poked her head back into his office, catching him mid-pace.

“Sir, they’ll be ready for you in about 20mins. Do you need anything?”

Without waiting for a reply, she stepped into the office and closed the door. The little snick of the lock falling into place sounded deafening in the quiet office. They both knew she didn’t need to close the door, not for any real work-related purpose anyway. They stared at each other for a second before she walked towards his computer, deciding to play it coy for the time being.

“I’ll show you where Abbey saved your presentation in case you want to practice,” she said as she clicked through the various folders on screen.

“That would be great. Thank you, Jen.”

She heard him walk up behind her and then pause before the creaking of his chair announced he’d sat down. When she turned around, he was staring at her very intently. They locked eyes but he didn’t speak. She could tell she was going to have to make the first move if anything was going to happen, a role she was very happy to play.

“Well, if I can’t help you with anything else, maybe you can help me with something?” she purred, as she slid herself up onto his desk and spread her legs. She watched his eyes widen as he took in her sheer mesh panties and the little snail trail of fuzz leading down to her pussy.

“We have fifteen minutes. If we’re going fuck, we better get started,” she said. “And you can start by eating my pussy…”

He rolled his chair forward so he was perfectly positioned between her legs and slid his hands from her ankles up to her inner thighs, revelling in the silkiness of her thigh high stockings. He rubbed his cheeks against their softness, nuzzling his face further and further up her inner thighs, placing light kisses as he went. She knew her mesh panties allowed a tantalising view and it didn’t take him long to press his lips to the fabric, kissing a soft trail from her waist band down to the soft piece of material that covered her already throbbing clit. He rubbed the ridge of his nose against her, making her moan softly.

Without warning, he pushed her legs further apart, forcing her to lay back on the desk. Papers and pens tumbled to the ground but neither of them cared. His fingers and tongue pressed against the now damp fabric of her underwear. She felt tormented by the pleasure of him rubbing and licking her clit with the barrier of cloth between them. It dampened his touch, making her ache for the feeling of his skin against hers. She twisted her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer and grinding her hips into his face. Her panties were now wet with a combination of his saliva and her juices. God, she was so fucking close to coming and he wasn’t even really touching her.

She pushed him back and slid straight down onto her knees in front of him. He had a kind of dazed look in his eyes as she unbuckled his pants and slid them down to his ankles. The front of his boxers was slick with pre-cum. She wrapped her lips around his cock, sucking hungrily at the salty fluid that oozed out in response to her attentions. His hands gripped the base of her ponytail and pulled her away. She looked up to see him gazing at her with an anguished look on his face. She knew that face; it was the face of a guy who was trying not to come.

She lifted her dress above her waist and climbed into his lap, slipping her panties to the side and slowly sliding her pussy down onto his cock. He moaned and she felt his fingers dig into her ass, holding her in place while he tried to pull himself together, his legs trembling with effort.

“It’s ok,” she said as she rested her clit against his hips and started to rock herself back and forth. She lent forward and whispered in his ear, “I’m going to come really quickly riding your cock like this.”

He moaned and it was as if her words gave him permission to truly enjoy himself. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in to kiss him. Their tongues explored one another’s mouths with a ferocity that intensified as they both got closer to orgasm. They ground their hips together, panting and desperate. Just two people totally focused on the pleasure of each other’s bodies. She came with her face pressed into his shoulder, biting her lips to muffle her cries. Seconds later, his fingers gripped her ass and he let out a low moan while his cock pumped hot come into her pussy.

Knowing they had exactly six minutes to make themselves presentable, she stood up and slipped her panties across her dripping pussy, but not before a few drops of come landed on the floor beneath his desk. She used the sole of her heel to rub the drops into the carpet then got down on her knees and licked and sucked at the mess they’d made of his already softening cock. He twitched and jerked away from her but she didn’t stop until he was totally clean and then slid dick back into his boxers, giving it a light pat as she stood up.

“You’d better get ready,” she said as she straightened her dress and tightened her ponytail. In seconds, she was the picture of professionalism, not a hair out of place, meanwhile he sat in his chair in a daze – hair a mess, clothing rumpled. He stared at her in disbelief, astounded by her quick recovery.

“But not even your lipstick’s smudged!”

“Kiss proof lipstick, baby,” she smiled as she walked towards the door. “It’s made for moments like these.”