Comfort and sweet humiliation

Captain and I have been having a couple of discussions about humiliation play, and both coming to roughly the same conclusions. We like it, a lot. That uncomfortable, leg squirming rush of blood to the cheeks as someone tries to reconcile a socially unpalatable activity with hidden sexual desire. The coming-out of it. They way that embarrassment and arousal heighten each other: blushes of shame turning to flushes of excitement. I remember that images of humiliation were my earliest brushes with the erotic, the balance of revulsion, taboo and exhilaration.

What's harder, is actually doing it. The more play I explore, the less bothered I am about flouting convention, especially in my private play (public play is a little different). Humiliation, never particularly accessible, gets harder and harder to do as I don't generally get embarrassed. I get other responses, however. I certainly get the thrill and the excitement of crossing an invisible line, I also get a heightened sense of submission. Types of play normally associated with humiliation, make me feel more submissive because what I am doing is viewed in general as an act of degradation, or as being dehumanising - they take me out of being myself, and into the space where I am reminded of my submission, of my position as less-than. They also tend to enhance the sensation of control by forcing me to do something that is uncomfortable, difficult, nasty or just plain weird. Which is, of course, a double-edged thrill - I'm reminded that I'm controlled, and it's a control that it kinky.

Spending the night in adult nappies falls firmly into this category. The nappies themselves were of the deliberately bulky sort. Captain taped shut with gaffa tape, which I was sent downstairs to locate allowing me to experience just how hard is it to move when you've got a few inches of padding around your hips and between your legs. It was a little funny, a little silly but also made me feel looked after, attended to. It was a signal of the amount of control I had ceded, and in turn, the responsibility I no longer had. The nappy was both access-control, in an almost chastity belt way as well as management over my excretions. It also gave a certain amount of pressure on my cunt, as the padding pushed against me when I rolled over on to my side. That was very pleasant - a light reminder of how wet and turned on I was, which let me fall asleep in a turned-on haze, with his arm around me.

I certainly didn't feel humiliated or embarrassed by the process. I was excited and interested, as it was a new experience. I'm not sure whether I felt infantilised, although I did feel as if they marked me as unequal, as needing of care. But given that the care had been provided, I actually found it quite a sweet and comforting situation: one of my usual problems with being put to sleep in bondage is that I tend to need to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, especially if I've been fucked hard or had a lengthy play session. The nappies were a form of bondage that resolved this issue and I slept very soundly - for whatever reason I actually didn't actually piss during the night, perhaps the simple fact that I could was enough to keep my bladder quiet. Handily, though, my period had started that evening so the pants were not left pristine but I think that the lack of genuine waste disappointed Captain somewhat and I got a murmur of "chicken" in the morning as he peeled off the pants to fuck me.

There was pleasure in that also - in how he had to remove the bindings to use me, like unlocking a cage or removing a gag. A reminder of his rights and privileges upon my body, and also a slight feeling of being a present unwrapped. What I thought was especially telling about the entire situation was that, whilst pressed face down under the duvet, he pushed my hand against my clit so I could play with myself whilst he fucked me and I came in under a minute. Significant in that it was the first orgasm I've had with him (always a bit of a hurdle for me) and perhaps as much reflective of the actions of the evening as much as the night before, but certainly a much needed release. Just not the one that the nappies were intended to deal with.