Before DO SummerCamp a date was set up which involved providing references, time blocks, hard limits, and a paragraph about why I’d be interested in playing with this particular person. It all seemed exhaustive and annoying considering I’m not the kind of person who schedules dates even with people I *really* want. My style is much more off the cuff. For some reason I went along with it and gave my information as best I could.
Oh wow am I thankful for that.
With exceedingly minimal conversation between me and my play date we met up friday night and talked briefly about limits and what kind of play might happen. I was given the option of being beaten or being tied up and beaten. I chose tied up and beaten as I rarely get much ropey time. I stripped down into my undies and they tied me up into a sideways suspension. My head was tied up and supported by a pair of nylon tights which also killed some of my vision. (Both good and bad, good because I could zone out, bad because I couldn’t see the face of my play partner) I was gently rotated and beaten all over. Punched, caned, grabbed, suffocated… Any part of me that was exposed was hit. It was wonderful. For some reason when I process pain, I laugh. So I was giggling hysterically, which I think threw my partner through a loop. At first they couldn’t tell if I was crying or laughing and they had to ask.
At some points they put their hand over my mouth and nose blocking my breathing. I think a bit of this was brought on by the fact that we had both been in an edge play class that did a lot of breath play. I’d try to calm myself as best as possible, but eventually you need to breathe. My body would take over and my diaphragm would convulse, and eventually I’d get desperate enough to squirm. No one has ever pushed my breathing that far. Most people let up way early. It was exciting. I also got pretty floaty. I’m not a sub-space person but I do get adrenaline and a long building up session of pain will give me a stable floaty feeling. I got to ride that out until after midnight snack when I crashed.
Coming down was an interesting pain. When the ropes went slack and my body picked up weight. It reminded me of coming down after a hook suspension. Oddly painful to come back to earth. I knew my play partner was not form a group that was big on aftercare, and I’m honestly not used to aftercare myself so that worked for me. I did offer assistance with anything and asked if they needed anything. They said they’d just like company as they cleaned up and I was happy to oblige. It was nice to have some conversation after.
I’ve got some fantastic bruises now and a pretty decent crush.
dirty talk tmi: bdsm dirty talk getting off photos queer sex upthebutt
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I was wearing a linnen bogdress. All my undergarments were gone. It was essentially a sack of fabric draping across my skin. He was fully clothed. It was cold. We were kissing deeply and his hands had free reign under my dress. He was already warned, he was consenting, as was I. I bent over to move the dew wool from over my pallet and he pulled my dress up to my hips. He slid his hand up and down my cunt. Then one finger… two fingers… three fingers. I was moaning and wiggling at this point… 4 fingers. There was no lube. He just fucked me with his fingers until I was wet enough, and then he tucked his thump in and pushed. I moved forward, surprised. He grabbed my hair with his other hand and pulled me back onto his fist. It hurt. I whimpered. I bet it made him hard. That thought made me wet.
He got up a rhythm. (Un?)fortunately my wet was no match for the cold and I started to get dry. He just fucked me faster. He kept going until I was nearly in tears whimpering “ow”. I was squeezing my legs together as tight as possible. After he pulled his hand out of me, he laid back. My head was directed to his cock. My head was pushed all the way down his length and he just started to face fuck me. I had to pull away a few times as I felt the bile rise up in the back of my throat. That feeling like I was about to puke. After the first big wave, he looked concerned, like he was going to ask if I was ok. I sniffled back, wiped my face on my arms and swallowed his cock again. The next few times he just looked angry that I stopped.
After a bit of that he bent me over lifted my dress again. I thought he was going to fuck me, but he lined his hand up with my cunt and told me to push back on it until it was all the way inside. It hurt. It was puffy and mad and there was no lubrication. After struggling I finally got all the way down to his wrist. He then told me to fuck myself on his hand. So I started rocking myself forward and back, feeling my lips grabbing onto his hand. He then yanked his hand out of me and spit into it. He slid a finger down my back and found my ass. He wiped the spit on my asshole, lined his cock up with his finger, and pushed on in. He then fucked my ass until he came. His weight laid on top of me as his cock slowly melted inside of me.
We played the cleanup game. I didn’t want to wake up and step on a condom on my morning run to the port-o-castle. We kissed a few more times and I walked him out of camp so he wouldn’t trip and die on any guy lines.
That was easily the best “quicky” or one night stand ever.
thought process: body image gta health job photos thinking
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Yesterday I taught a personal record number of students yesterday. 14 in one day. That’s 2, 2hour back to back sessions of 7 students each. That’s 14 pelvic exams in about 4 hours…
In my line of work it’s an entertaining thought to sometimes count your students. I’ve had 39 in one week, 14 in one day, probably around 200 people if not more, have been in my vagina.
I’ve lost 6 lbs in 5 weeks. when you’re a bajillion lbs that’s not much, but I guess it’s a start. I also like to blame on my extremely slow progression on the fact that I’m rebuilding muscle now too so… So there!
So I have decent length, (currently) dark red hair. It’s clean and conditioned and I have the fan on next to my bed and I though Oh I feel pretty.. let me turn on my webcam. and be vain for a second becasue I mean, I’m currently stuck crippled in bed, might as well have some fun with it. (Why am I crippled? what’s wrong? Well I’m tired of explaining it, but needless to say I haven’t left my house in a week and a half due to crippling pain resulting in a spinal injury.)
I’ve come to realize, i dislike most of the photos I’ve taken of myself with my hair down. I think my face has strong features and my hair just… I don’t know… it never feels quite complementary in photos.
and Besides other little things like, making sure there’s no double chin, holding my head up, relaxing the mouth, I’ve found I hate profile pictures of myself. I have a neanderthal eyebrow ridge. I can use my eyebrows as a visor against the morning or evening sun. It’s crazy. My nose curls up hard, and my chin juts out. My face is wayyy too strangely curvy for profile. 3/4ths though.. that’s the money.
p.s. if you haven’t noticed it’s like the same fuckin picture but one has hair… and there’s no photoshop.
thought process: body image daily life history photos thinking
With nearly any picture you see of me you can most likely tell at what point in my life you’re at simply by the color and length of my hair. It’s constantly changing. The most interesting by far though had to be being bald.
I had hair that was mid back length. It was dyed black. I quite liked having long hair but I was looking to change it and black would NEVER come out of my hair, so I’d have to grow it again if the change was to be the color. So instead I changed the length…
I had my hair chopped off and donated it to locks of love. It was a good experience.
Since I had my hair at shoulder length… I was curious to go further. I was in college, I didn’t have to impress anyone for a job, so I felt that if I was to do something drastic, this was totally the time. I needed my hair to grow out anyway, so…
I had my friends help and one late February day we chopped of all my hair, buzzed then shaved off the rest.
One of my main motivators was that I was curious to know how it FELT to be bald. The last time I was bald I was being cut out of my mom’s stomach. Really I don’t remember that. I wish I had known about the charity thing you can do with getting sponsors to shave your head. I should have done that and at least helped some sick kids in the process. Ahh maybe next time…
So what did it feel like? Cold. Like someone rubbed menthol all over my head. The rest of my skin was registering as normal temperature but this newly exposed skin was now unused to the temperature.
The social reaction was interesting too. I did this just before V for Vendetta came out so I got a lot of comments about being inspired by Natalie Portman. To be honest I didn’t know her head got shave until someone mentioned to me AFTER I did it. Other comments ranged from “that’s awesome” to “why the hell would you do that” and even someone went so far to say “why do you want to make yourself look like a boy” (they were drunk but they definitely got some interesting food for thought on that one.)
It was a good experience and I’d recommend it for anyone.
dirty talk HNT: bdsm body image getting off orgy photos rope