Dreaming

“Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning.”

I have been reading a lot about how people have been having vivid, even disturbing, dreams during this period of lockdowns and restrictions. I have had my share too, most recently, finding myself in Australia with no money and a hotel bill to pay. I knew I had money in my savings account, lots of it, but I could only transfer this to my current account by actually going into the building society branch in England. And I had no money to go back to England to get the money I needed to eat and have a place to sleep in Australia. I was marooned. I woke up, sweating and shaking at 4 am. And not in Australia! And this is far from my weirdest dream.

None of these dreams, however, has been about sex or, for that matter, kink. I have, instead, daydreamed about these pretty much constantly. having taken a break from the kink sense for mental health reasons last winter, and my planned return having been unavoidably delayed, it is a year since I last played. Sex, too, has not been part of my bodily life for a while either. But kink and sex remain integral to my life. They have migrated into my head and I dream aboit them.

I have written a lot of stories both on this blog and elsewhere and these stories have drawn more directly on my own past than anything I have written before. They have been both therapy and catharsis. They have also served to draw a line under aspects of my past, a clearing of the decks for 2021.

And I am dreaming of the future now, of what I will do when fetish clubs open, when sexual partners emerge from the COVID darkness into the light of the new world I have dreamt for them. My dreaming has been a long course in self understanding, and most definitely a guide to action. Come 2021 I will be a better lover, a more attentive domme, (though possibly a mote sadistic one). But my dreams are only part of the plan. The rest we do together, and I look forward to being taken into the dreamworlds of subs, play partners, of lovers.

A post for Quote Quest. Click on the badge below to see the dreams of others.

QuoteQuest

Vile Bodies

No, not mine, and not necessarily yours. After three months without physical contact I have lost interest in other bodies. I used to love the feel of another’s skin, the stubble of a man brushing against my cheek as I kissed him, the smell of arousal, even the aroma of sweat as I made love on a muggy evening, the taste of a bell end glistening with pre-come as I took it into my mouth, the musk of a cunt, juicy with arousal, the joy of burying my face in lush pubic hair as I go down on her, the feel of her tongue against my finger as she licks her juice.

All these things I have enjoyed, and my body in turn has given pleasure to my lovers. And yet it all seems so long ago, no more real than  the smut I read, the stories I write. The stories. I have moved my sex life into my head, I write and write and write, not always for publication, but always to get off, to experience the orgasms that come from the mind, to make sense of all those bodies and the things I did with them, before everything is lost.

I am used to this now. The urge to write is irresistible, I fear the bodies, imperfect as mine is imperfect, sweaty as mine is sweaty, sagging as mine sags, that will come between me and my imagination. I think them vile, I push them away. But I cannot do this for ever.  My lover today sent me a picture of his cock, as yet untasted by me. But taste it I will, for I must. It took me decades to love my body, nearly as long to love the bodies of others. The language of these bodies is another language, once foreign, still not entirely familiar. I cannot afford to forget it.

SoSS April – The Lockdown Edition

April has been the month of lockdown. I have managed to do a lot of writing, and also a lot of reading. There can be no writing without reading and am sure that reading so many excellent posts has spurred my creativity. It appears that lockdown has spurred the creativity of many other bloggers too. In saying that I am very much aware that are many fine writers for whom lockdown has had the opposite effect. If you are one of them, know that I am thinking of you. We all have periods of block and I do not take my current creativity for granted. I see it as a gift, unsightly, maybe undeserved, but a gift.  And if you are experiencing block , or lack of inspiration, I want to share it with you. There has been a lot to like this month so please bear with me. This is a longer roundup than  normal.

There are plenty of female dominants on the kink scene and quite a few femsubs.  But I don’t come very often come across submissive women who submit to dominant women. And this is something that has fascinated me ever since the time when people watching at the BBB, as you do, I watched a young D/S couple, observed their dynamic, their intuitive understanding of each other. For the first time I realised that the submission of wmen to woman is a thing of beauty. This is why I am an avid reader of the blog of ML Slave Puppet. This post was not directly about being a femsub but a really useful review of LGBTQI literature and  how it helps self understanding.

Deviant Succubus is always worth reading. And I love this about how a pansexual woman doesn’t identify as LGBTQ. I could say more about labels and how they constrict as well as liberate but that is one for anther day after I have dome some more thinking on the subject.

This by a Mental Switch (a new name to me) was an interesting take on masturbating for the entertainment of a dominant.  This is a blog I will certainly be revisiting.

One meme I have yet to contribute to but really need to get around to is Lingerie for Everyone, all the more so as I have a collection of nice repro vintage lingerie, in the context of which I can thoroughly recommend What Katie Did. You even get a cup of tea and a biscuit when you visit the shop. I loved this from Violet Love although I found it painful to look at (not because of the pegged labia but because it reminded me of the many things that locked down Eve can’t enjoy).

Smutathon 2020 is provisionally scheduled for Scotland in September but, at the time of writing, there really is no way of knowing if it will be able to go ahead. The Smutathon regulars are getting together virtually to write for two hours on Wednesday evenings and this is helping a number of us to get our mojos back in these difficult times. It has certainly worked for Exhibit A who wrote this on the first Wednesday of the month.

Which leads me on to The Other Livvy who has been writing some interesting and thought provoking posts on how her sexual self has been affected by pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood. This for me is her best post yet on the subject.

And motherhood is a nice segue on to Francesca Demont , a new mother locked down in New York which, frankly, must be scary. But she is making the best of it as this post shows.

One of the big disappointments of March was not being able to meet up with Jayne Renault. As she says she has been quiet on the writing scene for a few months but thispost about writers’ block and self care, and just pampering and loving yourself, was incredibly rich. There is so  much here that I will need to read it again a couple of  times.

I could relate to these reflections on mental health and sleep and interiority by May More. I am actually sleeping much better during the lockdown but this may be because working from home enables me to keep hours that are more in synch with my internal  clock. But like May I have, and need, worlds of my own to escape to.

And staying with May, she wrote this fab story about the sexy challenges of having  your  partner working from home all day when normally they aren’t.

I will be discussing rope in a future post and have really enjoyed the wonderful artistic ties that some bloggers have managed to do on themselves, such as this harness by Molly.

What to do when you’rs tick at home on your own? Well you can follow the example of Pain as Pleasure and Dig for Victory.

Easter Sunday was an odd day wasn’t it? But some bloggers managed to keep a bit of the seasonal spirit. I rather liked Exposing 40’s Easter bunny.

This, by MxNillin was just well……..fucking hot!

And following on from a post by MxNillin I have to mention the issue that has been causing some friction within the sex blogging community. It was on Tuesday 14th April that I was made aware of a post from the 29th February and which had passed me by. This post by Inigo More has sparked a heated debate and a lot of acrimony. It has raised the issue of transphobia. I am going to link to two posts which give contrasting points of view.  Here is Kayla Lords    and here is an equally forthright piece from Melody Insights.  A number of people have messaged me privately to ask what I think and I have had a couple of lengthy conversations with people in which I have set out my perspective and explained why I think some people have reacted in the way they did. I will be blogging abut this but my mental health isn’t great at the moment and I want to wait until passions have cooled.

I was reminded by a tweet by a London based pro domme I chat to online about Club Pedestal which I went o a couple of years ago and quite enjoyed even if it is more of  a show off your shiny latex event than a proper lay event. So, with pedestals in mind, this post from Love is a Fetish kind of leapt off the screen at me.

ML Slave Puppet continues to write thought provoking things on kink. This, about shame and its dual aspect, shame at being kinky, and shame as a form pf play within kink, with the twist (which I hadn’t really thought about before) of arousal through humiliation play being itself a source of humiliation, is one of her best posts yet. If you are into BDSM, or just curious, this is a must read blog.

Sinful Sunday continues to be a source of sauciness (sorry) and a much needed morale boost. I enjoyed this by Exposing 40

Wicked Wednesday 412 was about Lockdown. Whilst there is no need to write to the theme (and my post that week didn’t), most bloggers did. I have chosen this post by Old Mike to feature in this roundup as it is by a sex worker client who writes about the awful predicament that sex workers currently find themselves in, To be clear, sex worker led groups, such as SWARM who are mentioned here, are organisations to help.  The self-appointed saviours, whose hearts bleed for “prostituted women” are doing nothing. Nada. Rien. Fuck all. Fuck them!

The final Sinful Sunday of April again had some interesting, well fun actually, images, such as this from Pain as Pleasure.

I have lined to a couple of rope posts earlier and have a blog post abut rope pending but I totally loved this from Sub Bee.

My collaboration with Posy Churchgate on the 1950s schooldays of Delphine continues. Here is Posy’s latest chapter which sets the bar high for my next chapter, which I will be posting next week.

This month’s petrolhead porn can only be Sir Stirling Moss who died on Easter Sunday. Here he is winning the 1958 Argentine Grand Prix. RIP Sir Stirling

And I will also be reading your blog posts, your smut and posting my roundup at the end of May. Until then stay safe. Above all, be kind to each other and treat each other with respect. 

A Lockdown Visit

For three weeks I have been stuck at home on my own. This means no sex. Well OK there is solo sex but I really lost my mojo for that when lockdown was announced. My go to prison wife fantasy wasn’t working for me. All I could think of was the reality of prison life now, during the crisis, the way in which the virus is cutting a swathe through the helpless population trapped in our stinking overcrowded jails. Fantasies were everywhere crowded out by awful reality and my libido died.

Well I did for a couple of weeks then, our local police began a high profile enforcement of lockdown she began a regular patrol of my street. She was blonde, not pretty exactly with her aquiline nose and sharp chin that gave her a hard appearance although she did break into a smile when talking to the children playing in their front gardens. When she smiled she was almost beautiful.

That was enough for me. Too much beauty in a woman is a turn off. I began to fantasise about her, I moved my desk in the home office to be by the window so that I could watch her on patrol and frig myself as I did so. In my fantasy she leads me from the house in handcuffs, I am humiliated in front of the neighbours as she leads me to the car, roughly pushes my head down as I get in. At the police station I am processed, stripped of my possessions and locked in a stinking windowless cell where I wait for her. By the third time I was ready to take the fantasy further.

At about three o’clock on Good Friday as I sat at my kitchen table working on my blog, enjoying a cup pf tea and a Hot Cross Bun there was a knock on he door.

It was her. I started.

“Miss Eve Ray?”

I nodded.

“I need to come in and speak to you. There has been a report about you breaching lockdown regulations.”

“Who….”

“I can’t disclose that. But the matter is serious.”

I beckoned her in and showed her through to the kitchen. I glimpsed at her name badge. She was PC Deborah Morris.

“Look Deborah I am happy to answer any questions but there has surely been a misunderstanding.”

I felt her gloved hand slap my cheek.

“You will address me as Ma’am. Is that clear?”

I rubbed my cheek.

“Yes Ma’am” I said, more in shock than anything else. I looked at her. She continued,

“Reports are that you shopped at Tesco and at Boots this morning.”

“Yes but I am allowed out to buy essential items aren’t I?”

“I will decide what is essential. Show me  the receipts”

I rummaged for them in my handbag, handed them to her. She studied them carefully.

“Prosecco”

She allowed herself a smile.

“Is Prosecco essential?”

“Well I think so.”

“Shut up!”

I felt a stinging slap across the other cheek. She then studied the Boots receipt.

“Sanitary products? Are you having your period?”

“I don’t see why you need to know that.”

“If you’re not on Miss Ray” she said with ironic emphasis on my name “these purchases are considered non-essential in line with Section 4 Paragraph 3 of the Corona virus Regulations 2020. As such buying them today would constitute a criminal offence. So I am going to ask you again. Are you having your period.”

“That is my business not yours. I am not answering that question.”

“Very well. In that case I am empowered by the regulations to give you a gynaecological examination to find out.”

“You can’t do that!” I protested.

“I can do what I like Miss Ray. The Coronavirus Act 2020 allows me to do what ever is necessary to prevent, investigate, and punish beaches of the lockdown regulations. I do what I want. You do as you are told. Is that clear?” .

She took a packet of latex gloves out of one of her many pockets., opened it and and put the gloves on with a chilling smack of latex against her skin. I felt arousal.

“Take your clothes off.”

I hesitated.

“Strip.” she screamed. I complied, pulling off my  t shirt and leggings, my knickers, and leaving them in a heap at my feet.

She walked round me, inspecting me.

“Four tattoos! I wouldn’t have had you down as the kind of person who has tattoos. And that lower back tattoo. Slag. That’s what you are aren’t you? A fcking sag!”

“Yes Ma’am.”

I was very wet by now. I wanted this. I climbed onto the table and lay legs apart.

I felt her slide in a finger, two fingers, then the whole hand as my cunt dilated. She moved her hand in in and out, gently at first, then more firmly, placing her thumb in my clit as he did so. She was no novice at pleasuring women. Then, having brought me to the edge of orgasm, she kept me there.

“It’s not looking good for you is it Miss Ray? Is it? You cold go down for six months fr non essential purchases. Do you know that?”

I said nothing, desperate to be brought to orgasm.

“I am going to need to go in deeper” she said, unclipping the baton from her belt.

She fucked me with it, brutally, rhythmically. As she picked up the pace I arched mt back to give her the angle to push it in deeper. I came with a scream. She pulled the baton out.

“Look how wet that is you dirty slag. Lick it clean.”

She held it for me to lick my juices off it which  did greedily.

I got down from the table shaking. I needed aftercare. to be wrapped in a blanket and cuddled, just as my lovely dom does, but there would be no aftercare today. I collapsed at her feet, grabbing her uniform trousers, lowering my lips to kiss her boots. She held the baton threateningly.

“If I have to come here again, you are getting this up the arse.”

“Please Ma’am ” I said, struggling to articulate the words, “I have further offences to be taken into consideration. I would like to make a statement………. please.”

 

 

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Masturbation Monday