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Posts Tagged ‘anal play’

  1. Playing Big Sister in Age Play

    November 14, 2014 by Heather Cole

    Girl with lots of sweets. Anime style.

     

    A friend asked me to help with a BDSM scene. A long-time associate of hers, Jimmy, enjoyed wearing diapers, liked humiliation, anal penetration, and age play. My friend would take the role of “Mommy,” but she needed someone to be the big sister. Since I had the schoolgirl skirt and Mary Janes, I figured why the hell not? The idea of being someone’s kinky fairy godmother and making their fantasy come true appealed to me, even if I was slightly nervous about what that would entail exactly.

    I wore my short plaid skirt, ruffled white shirt, and pulled my hair into pigtails. I grabbed a long coat that hid my costume so I wouldn’t alarm the neighbors, and I set out for Mommy’s play space. I always get a case of the butterflies before a scene, even when I’m not the focus of the action, and I wondered what Jimmy would be like. I didn’t have much experience with age play outside of my own D/s relationship, and I worried that I wouldn’t know how to play “correctly,” as if there even was such a thing.

    The stereotype of Dominant women was that they wore latex or black leather all the time, and strode around in heels with a whip in hand. I had never seen my friend wearing any of that, and when I arrived, she was dressed in black skinny jeans, a scarlet red top, and heels. She didn’t need head-to-toe leather to appear dominant. It was in the way she moved, her energy, and the instructions she gave me. She assured me that I’d be fine and should follow her lead. I nodded and crossed my fingers that she would be right.

    Jimmy was a man in his fifties with graying hair and casual clothes. He was shorter than me with a compact frame and quiet disposition. He smiled at me like we were meeting for the first time at a coffee shop and not in a room with multi-colored sex toys and large bottles of lube residing along one wall. He shook my hand and didn’t appear nervous at all when Mommy introduced me as Heather, his big sister. She then turned to me to explain that Jimmy was my new adopted baby brother. I smiled at him and welcomed him to our happy family, and then Mommy got down to the business of taking care of baby.

    Mommy told him to take his clothes off, and then we all traipsed to the bathroom so that he could “get clean.” I twirled my hair and lounged against the door frame as Mommy cleaned Jimmy’s penis and balls with wet wipes. She explained to me that dirty boys needed to be cleaned, especially naughty boys who liked to play with themselves. Mommy asked him if he had saved himself for her, and he nodded. Then she snapped her latex glove and told him to bend over, so she could inspect her efforts. Jimmy obligingly parted his ass cheeks, and Mommy stuck a finger into his anus. He gave a soft moan as she slowly moved in and out of the tight hole. I watched his cock harden with her attentions, and she gave Jimmy permission to stroke himself.

    My posture may have been casual, but I found their interactions fascinating. It was the first time that I’d participated in a scene with a male submissive where I could observe and absorb the dynamic. Usually I was the receiver of the dominance and sadism, but in this particular situation, I had a front row seat.

    “You’re not allowed to come,” she warned him. “If you come close to orgasm before I give you permission, you may beg me for mercy.”

    “Yes, Mommy,” he replied in a breathless voice.

    With the inspection finished, Mommy withdrew her finger and tossed her gloves into the trash. “Let’s get you into your diaper, baby.”

    We walked back into the other room, and Mommy laid out all the items she would need for Jimmy’s change. Talcum powder and a large adult-sized diaper with blue sail boats sat beside the massage table. She instructed him to lie down with his bottom on the diaper and his legs spread, and then she turned to me. My task was to sit between his legs and powder him. I nervously grabbed the baby powder and eyed Jimmy’s penis. In retrospect I should have focused more on the sensual feeling of powder on skin, but all I could think about was making the powder go where I wanted. I squeezed too hard, and a giant plume of white powder puffed into the air. I suddenly got a case of the giggles.

    Mommy made clucking noises with her tongue and shooed me off the table. She neatly fastened Jimmy’s diaper. Then she handed me a coloring book and crayons.

    “You two can color, while I get a few things from downstairs. Look after your brother, Heather, and be a good girl.”

    “Yes, Mommy,” I said and put the coloring book on the floor. “We can color here, Jimmy.”

    We shared the crayons and began coloring a Ninja Turtle. Spread out on our stomachs with our legs in the air, I felt exactly like the little girl I was supposed to be playing.

    “You’re pretty,” Jimmy said.

    “Thanks, little brother.” I could feel a slow grin tug at my lips, a plan forming in my mind. “So tell me, Jimmy, are you a good boy or a bad boy?

    Jimmy heaved a loud sigh and furiously colored a turtle’s mask orange. “I try to be good, but I always seem to get into trouble somehow. How about you, Heather? Are you a good girl?”

    “Oh Jimmy, I am most definitely not a good girl.” And to prove my point, I broke my purple crayon in half and threw it across the room.

    Jimmy gasped, so I did it again. This time with a green crayon. “Let’s see if Mommy notices.”

    There was the click of the doorknob turning, and the door swung open. Part of me felt very naughty, and I couldn’t look up to meet Mommy’s eyes. I watched her heels cross the carpet, a flush stealing over my cheeks.

    “Have you two been good?” she asked.

    “Mommy, Heather broke two crayons!” Jimmy yelled.

    I had marked Jimmy as a goody-two-shoes from the beginning, and he had played his part perfectly. It took all my control not to burst into giggles again. Mommy frowned at me.

    “Heather, that is very bad. I’m going to have to punish you.”

    I tried to stifle my grin. “Oh no, Mommy. That would be terrible.”

    She shook her head at my obvious glee and motioned for Jimmy to get back up on the table. “I’m going to spank Heather, and since you’ve been a good boy, you may pleasure yourself while you watch.”

    As Jimmy settled himself, she unfastened his diaper and handed him a Hitachi. She warned him again that he had to announce if he was close to orgasm. The Hitachi buzzed to life, and Mommy pulled me over to a bench against the wall. I went over her lap, my ass sticking prominently into the air. With a few tugs, she had my white cotton panties around my knees, and I felt the first sting of her palm on my buttocks.

    I adored a good spanking, and I hadn’t had one for a long time. Mommy found a rhythm, and I closed my eyes to relish the feeling of stimulation and helplessness. Her fingers landed tantalizingly close to my pussy, and it was no stretch for my imagination to envision something even more personal happening. She switched to a closed fist when her hand tired, and the firm impact of her fist on the meat of my ass pushed me even closer to orgasm.

    “I think she’s enjoying her punishment a lot, Mommy,” Jimmy commented.

    “I think so too, baby, and your sister has such a nice ass to punish.”

    I squirmed on her lap and looked over to see Jimmy fully erect as he smoothed the Hitachi along the length of his shaft.

    “Let’s switch,” Mommy said and helped me stand up. Then it was Jimmy’s turn to receive Mommy’s attention, and she made him lie down on a medical pad she had spread on the floor. His diaper was discarded, and Mommy donned another pair of latex gloves.

    “Stand over his head, Heather, and let him see you.”

    I blushed and did as I was told, gratified when I heard Jimmy’s breathing increase. Mommy lubed up her fingers and pushed two into his anus as she worked the Hitachi up and down his cock. The effect was immediate, and Jimmy moaned his pleasure. I let one of my fingers skim the edge of my short skirt to find the thicket of hair at the junction of my thighs. I didn’t have to see his face below to know that Jimmy was watching.

    “See, little brother? I love being naughty,” I murmured, stroking my labia with a finger.

    Jimmy writhed against the floor, breathing hard. “I’m close, Mommy!”

    “Good baby. Good Jimmy. Come for Mommy.”

    And he did.

     


  2. Accidental Scat

    February 13, 2014 by Nikki Blue

    Anal play– many varieties of it — are a super sweet selection on the sex menu Mr. K and I share. It has been from the beginning of our relationship. Anal activities are like the two sides of a coin that he holds in his hand. On one side I’m dominant– I facesit him, smother him, and as he begs for it, I shove my fingers into his mouth after they’ve been inside of my ass. But when he flips that coin– and he always does –I’m incredibly submissive. I crave his hands around my throat, his presence in my thoughts, and “good girl” rolling from his tongue. I never really know which way the coin will land until he tosses it. Yes, he totally tops me from the bottom.

    Because we desire ass play the way we do, I’ve always been diligent in making sure my butt cave is sparkling clean for anal adventures. Plus, I’m big-time OCD. My anal cleanliness has often astounded Mr. K, though. So much that he bows to it, worships it, and doesn’t hesitate to pluck my plug from my asshole with his mouth. It’s kind of like my superpower. But during a recent round of ass lovin’, he realized the taste on his tongue was suddenly amiss. It wasn’t the mildly tart flavor he dreamed about in between visits. It was scat, y’all.

    “Um, baby, you’re not clean,” he said as he examined my asshole.

    Horrified, I bolted upright on the bed with a million thoughts buzzing through my brain. How did it happen? WHY did it happen? I’d done everything I was supposed to do to make sure I was clean, everything I’d always done. But what really freaked me out was that Mr. K found me unclean with his MOUTH. I feared it would ruin his taste for anal play.

    Embarrassed beyond belief, I wigged out. “What? But how can that be? I’m the Queen of Clean!”

    He chuckled, gargled with mouthwash– twice, and washed his hands. “You were the Queen of Clean.”

    Don’t misunderstand, I know the risks of coming into contact with butt stuff. I even wrote a about it, but until then, it had never happened to us. To be honest, I think I was far more upset about the anal derailment than Mr. K. For us, anal is intimacy in its purest form. It’s powerful, deeply felt, and even though the absence of it was noticed, the night was no less magical. The next morning he got down on his knees behind me, spread my cheeks, and flicked his tongue across my sensitive pucker. I wanted it desperately, but I panicked, afraid I wasn’t clean. He confessed he was worried too and refocused his attention to my pussy instead. It was the first time I’d held anything back from him and that alone was enough to send me into a tailspin.

    In the days after, we talked and laughed about it, agreeing that one anal misadventure in two years wasn’t bad at all. I vowed I would do my best to make sure our next anal playtime would be a squeaky clean one. But the morning of his most recent visit, I woke to find I’d started my period and anxiety bloomed. It wasn’t the thought of Auntie Flo turning our sexy time into a threesome dynamic that made my stomach turn, it was the fact that anal cleansing is extra challenging during my period. I worried that anal ecstasy would once again be thwarted. I’m no quitter, though, and I persevered until I was in the clear. Although, I did tell Heather I may consider using an enema next time to make double sure I’m as clean as possible. Because I’m anal.

    Still a little gunshy, I didn’t breathe easy until I heard the muffled sounds of Mr. K’s pleasure as he spread my cheeks open. Then all at once it seemed, my anal confidence returned in a rush, and I watched him in the mirror as he licked, fingered, and inhaled what he loved. The desire to feel him push into me while his skin pressed to mine was suddenly overwhelming and I begged him to fuck me, to take what was his. I needed it. We both did. And as he asked how much I’d missed Daddy’s cock deep inside my ass, he filled me with his come.

    I snuggled up to Mr. K and turned on to my back to prevent butt germs from migrating to my vag, both of us feeling a sense of relief and somewhat giddy. He told me how amazing I was, joked that the Queen was back, and high-fived me for successful anal. I laughed and relaxed into his arms, realizing how silly I’d been about our little setback. Yes, it was embarrassing, but in the grand scheme of things it really was a minor incident. The simple truth is that regardless of how hard we try to control them, our bodies are fickle and tend to do whatever the fuck they want. And sometimes, shit just happens.

     

    For more information on the do’s and don’ts of anal sex, read


  3. Anal Play vs. Scat Play: Setting the Record Straight

    May 31, 2013 by Nikki Blue

    I’ve rewritten the opening paragraph of this blog post three times now and I’m still not sure I won’t come off sounding like a raging bitch, but you know what?

    Fuck it.

    Anal play has been a hot topic between Heather and me as of late. More so than usual, because Heather has been dealt a handful of harsh criticisms and unwarranted judgments that have been slung with the carelessness of mud. I think it goes without saying my hackles are raised and the claws are out in defense against this pack of close-minded kinksters who believe ALL anal activities fall into the scat play category. This, my kinky friends, is what I call bullshit.

    Viewed as extreme by the majority of kinksters, scat play is loosely defined as getting sexual pleasure from the excretion of feces. Whether it’s from the sight, smell, taste or feel of it, there are those who get off on it. Sometimes scat, also known as scatophilia, is part of a submissive’s desire to be used as a human toilet. Sometimes it’s part of enema play, and there are some Masters who incorporate it into slave training. Like many other kinksters, scat play is a hard limit for me. Like super fucking hard.  Anal play, however, refers to any sexual activity that stimulates the anus. It’s a blanket term used to describe analingus or rimming, fingering, fisting, the use of anal toys, and anal intercourse. It does NOT include the consumption of or anything else pertaining to scat.

    I give a lot of thought to anal play beforehand, making sure my ass is as clean as it can possibly be, because the last thing I want to do is give Mr. K more than he bargains for when I pull the jeweled plug from my asshole and shove it in his eager mouth. Now does that sound like scat play? Didn’t think so.

    There are some who will argue that regardless of the level of preparation, the anus is still a dirty place. I’m not naive to this. I understand that it doesn’t matter how little I eat the day I know Mr. K will worship my ass, or how well I cleanse internally with a douche bottle, there is still the possibility of trace amounts of feces. But that doesn’t stop me from kissing him after he’s tongue fucked my asshole or giving him a blow job that makes his knees buckle after he’s, well, you know. That still doesn’t classify it as scat play as far as I’m concerned.

    Scat play and anal play are clearly different fetishes and saying they are the same doesn’t make it so. I find no appeal whatsoever in scat, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to condemn a person who does either. There’s too much judgment floating around the kinky community as it is, which in Heather’s words is super shitty. And for those who don’t feel that they need more than a soapy shower before a round of anal sex, guess what: still not scat play. With that being said, all fetishes have lines that can easily blur, but with good communication and a clear understanding of limits, those lines are less likely to lose focus.

    Anal play is an important element of the sexual connection Mr. K and I share. It has been from our first night together. And as our relationship and roles have evolved, the purpose of our anal play has grown deeper. We give ourselves freely, allowing the incredible sensations, both physical and mental, to take control of our bodies. The high is more addictive than any drug. So anytime a person, kinky or otherwise, passes judgment on me because of their own hang-ups, I’ll defend myself. And when they push me into a corner trying to shove their definition of anal play down my throat or when they attempt to devalue what I feel is the most powerful expression of intimacy, back up because I’m coming out swinging.


  4. Anal Sex – Part 2

    May 27, 2012 by Nikki Blue

    When Heather suggested we write about anal sex this week, I was all over it. Literally and figuratively. Seriously, who doesn’t love some buttsex? Okay, okay, I know not everyone finds it pleasurable, but to me it’s the most intimate way I can give myself to my partner. It’s a fan-fucking-tastic feeling when he lays his hands on top of mine, lacing his fingers through my own, and claims me as he whispers “mine” into my ear.

    *swoon*

    I’ve always enjoyed anal sex. When I got married, however, that desire was put in a box with everything else that my close-minded ex husband didn’t consider “normal” sexual practices. Now that I’m divorced my life is different. I have an amazing partner, and with him I have taken my appreciation of anal sex to new heights. He thinks I “ooze sex,” and loves everything about my body, but he especially loves my ass. Holy Jesus does that man love my ass. He loves it with his fingers, his tongue, and of course, his cock.

    For me, it takes a tremendous amount of trust and strength to submit to anal play. My partner recognizes that anal sex releases the submissive in me, making the desire to please him overwhelming at times. My head spins, my heart races, and I can’t focus on anything but him. He holds me close afterwards, kissing me, touching me, giving me the care I need to come down safely from the high of the all-consuming moment we’ve shared. He tells me what a good girl I am, because he knows it soothes me, and he thanks me for giving myself to him.

    Anal sex isn’t only about being on my knees with my face shoved into a pillow and my ass in the air. It’s more personal than that. It’s any position that allows the intimacy of his skin touching mine, my hands in his hair, or our eyes locked on each other’s. It’s knowing and feeling that he appreciates and respects what I give him.

    I admit that wearing a strap-on makes me feel powerful, and watching the reflection in the mirror of me taking his body with beads of sweat running down mine is wonderfully hot. It’s an intimate moment between the two of us and every bit of my focus is on his needs, his pleasure. I don’t try to mimic the acrobatic positions I’ve seen on PornHub. That’s not the reality of anal sex. Reality is laying him on his back with a pillow under his ass, and wrapping his legs around me as I penetrate him. It’s his eyes glazing over in pure ecstasy as he pleasures himself. It’s watching him explode like the grand finale at the end of a spectacular fireworks display. Reality is the satisfaction of giving him what he wants.

    The first time I fucked my partner with a strap-on, I was a little anxious. It was a first for both of us and I didn’t want to go too fast or hurt him in anyway. I let him guide me, telling me what to do, and the sounds of his pleasure as I penetrated him washed away any doubt I might have had. He doesn’t require the aftercare that I need, but powerful orgasms are always followed by quiet moments of holding and touching. It’s a closeness that is unparalleled.

    Butt plugs are something I wasn’t crazy about at first. I’d been instructed by a Dom to wear one and because of that, I thought it brought my submissiveness outside of the bedroom. I had a big problem with that. But, I realized that’s not what it did at all and I’ve grown to love them.

    There was a time when I wore a butt plug because it helped me to refocus my scattered emotions when my marriage was crumbling around me. It gave me a sense of control. A little odd maybe, but true. Then I wore it mainly when I masturbated because the orgasms were incredible. Now I wear my favorite stainless steel plug with the sparkly jeweled base because my partner finds it unbelievably sexy. I wear it when he instructs me to do so. I wear it to please him. I also like to use one on him. And I like to remind him that his ass is mine.

    At this point in my life, incorporating anal play into a sexual relationship is something I don’t take lightly. I need to feel a cerebral connection, I need to feel trust, and I need to feel safe. Without that combination, it just won’t happen. I’m not a twenty-something anymore trying to make sense of my wants and needs, I understand them now and I’ve accepted them. I’m finally confident about who and what I am, and I’m proud of it.