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The online diary of an ethical pervert.

Friday 25 July 2008

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The Photographer and I attempted a modicum of rape-play last night, and I had a lot of fun squirming ineffectively with the skirt of my dress around my waist and his knee pressing down into the small of my back, pushing me onto the bed before he fucked me. After a while, he turned me round onto my back and made me lie still, legs spread, eyes closed and face impassive, learning to be an object of use, with the threat of being hurt if I moved. A small part of me wanted to wriggle a little just to see what would happen but I complied.

Later on, after a gin and debrief session on the chaise longue (a much adored piece of furniture which makes you feel instantly languid) the tables were turned somewhat. Idly playing across his back with my fingernails made him lean into me, making soft little moans which I interpreted as a desire to be put into cuffs and collar. I decided to become a little less idle and spent some time discovering how hard I could press into his flesh and how long it took before he begged me to fuck him.

I'm still finding my feet with topping, but the more I do it, the more I get out of it, and certainly I was very happy to move him about and generally use him to my own satisfaction. Which I did, and it worked very well. That said, my mindset is such that I am very conscious of his sensation and there is still a strong aspect of ensuring that he is enjoying himself as well. We share a lot of likes and dislikes which means that I can generally do to him most of the things that I enjoy being done to me. I'm not yet used, or in the right frame of mind to go down the route of command and control, with punishment / reward for certain kinds of behaviour. We did limited bits of this, such as him having to ask permission before he came, and I think there's definately opportunity for more.

He slept with the cuffs clipped neatly to the collar, and woke me with light kisses to the back of the neck. A person could get used to this.

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