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This actually happened twenty years ago but I do not think it is a story which a male can write well.I had a Hindu girlfriend aged thirty or so whom I considered to some extent frigid. Even kissing on the lips was taboo. This was caused by her repressive religious upbringing. She lived in a sheltered environment and rarely went out. I met her at work and in general we spent time together only during the day. That summer she convinced the people she lived with that they should allow her to go on holiday with her best friend, "B". It was a threesome and I paid for "A" and myself. I had to go to the resort independently so that my presence was not discovered by the sheltering family.Contrary to my hopes, nothing went on with me in the holiday flat. I slept on the sofa while the two girls shared the matrimonial bed.In London after the holiday was over, "A" showed me the holiday snaps. Amongst these were several of her taken by "B" on the bed in which "A" was wearing only panties, not even a bra. I said, "I hope "B" is not lesbian" to which I was given the surprising reply "If she is, I would have to give myself a ritual bath every day." I replied, "So I can´t even give you a kiss on the lips, while if you had a lesbian relationship you would only have to have a ritual bath." A writer could take the story from there . In a later discussion with "A" I asked her if she would ever have sex with a woman and she replied, "I think I would do it with "B" if she asked me, just for the experience."
I was initiated into FemDom by a London call girl when I was 17. It was not my intention to be caned by her, it was part of her routine. She was so insistent that I should be introduced to domination by a female that I submitted, and it changed my life. After more experiences of that nature I noticed how my personality, my religious outlook and my view of male/female relationships generally began to change. At work I would notice the attractive girls/women who appeared most likely to be able to fill the FemDom role and attempt to confirm my impression by subtle remarks in conversation.The submissive male must be the kind of male the female would be proud to have as her submissive. The wimpish male may not be what she wants. "I will stand by you through thick and thin" is the message you have to put across, and get her to believe it. She may have to be enticed into female domination. The male must plan his campaign for this and it takes time.Over the years I converted three (non-call girl) women to female domination.(1) When I was in my early twenties I had a lady friend in her late thirties. She had no idea I was a male submissive. She was so much in love with me she wanted to burn the rim of my penis head with a cigarette so that I should never forget her as long as I lived. I was not keen on this and said that instead I would allow her to cane me ritually every week as long as our relationship lasted to prove my devotion to her. She accepted this offer and gradually became more dominant as time went on as she realized the extent of her control over me.(2) The second relationship involved a very attractive Hindu girl ten years my junior, a sweet, gentle girl, when I was in my mid-forties. We met at work. I had helped Aniela out of a serious financial predicament involving blackmail. She was frigid as the result of her religious upbringing and avoided all sexual contact. This was very difficult for me to put up with and my submissive complex began to take over. She had a habit of saying "You need a good hiding to teach you how to treat me properly". This was mere rhetoric, and she had no more intention of giving me a good hiding than flying to the moon. One day I simply produced a cane and said, "Show me how a good hiding will improve me." This kind of thing was quite foreign to her upbringing and I had to insist. "Come on, give me a good hiding like you've always threatened. I dare you"I laid on the bed in my underpants and to my surprise she lowered them. She had never seen me naked before - but in her eyes this "was not sex!" She told me I had to improve my character and explained this was why she was going to cane me. Then she gave me six really hard strokes of the cane. This brought tears to my eyes and I used the tears as part of my act to convince her that in future I would always obey her every command, I never realized how badly I had treated her in the past and so on and so on.I wished to "make amends" and told her to use the cane whenever she felt I needed correction, I would accept her decision in everything. Often she would keep the cane close to her in the flat so that she could give me a single stroke if I upset or annoyed her. One day after caning me she said, "God, how I really love controlling you this way!". I could write a long story about this relationship....(3) In my late fifties I lived in Latin America. I took lodgings in a house where the occupants were the mother, father and a young daughter at Catholic college, aged probably 18 or so. Lorena was studying English and so when the parents went out she would invite me into the kitchen for tuition. I did not call her by her name, but the equivalent of "Miss" which amused her. At times she used to wander around the house in a blouse and panties and one day I told her, "I should make you my goddess. Will you let me kiss your feet?" She agreed amidst much laughter but she liked it, and it began to be a regular ritual before the English tuition, and she even insisted on it in all seriousness.I gave her an abridged version of my relationship with Aniela and asked her "Do you think I should have let her dominate me like that?" Lorena grinned and said, "Do women control men in that way? I can't believe it".One evening, from the kitchen she noticed I had left the light burning in my bedroom. Her mother was very strict about the electricity bill and Lorena almost shouted at me to go and turn it off immediately, which I did. When I returned she apologized for shouting. I replied that she was quite right, Aniela would have caned me for not turning off the light, if Lorena wanted to punish me in that way instead of informing her mother I would accept it from her. Lorena agreed at once, and she used a hazel rod from the garden on me. I could tell from her sparkling eyes that she enjoyed administering the beating and from then on she used any excuse she could to punish me. She even invited one of her schoolfriends, the beautiful, slender Nadia, to watch and try her hand herself.From the above, the reader will understand that the male submissive must be an opportunist, always having his story ready. Once he has relinquished the normal male position to his female dominatrix she will never yield an inch and that is something he must bear in mind as she tightens the chains which bind him.
Be aware that a girl urinating over the guy's face is a domination thing. Personally I have allowed it several times, but then I am a submissive. Urine is so pure that it is recomended as an emergency antiseptic for wounds. I would not consider the flavour sweet or salty.
A short while ago, BBC TV ran a series under the title "Coleman Balls". David Coleman was a football commentator whose goofs gave much pleasure to many viewers. Here are five quotes from the "Coleman Balls" programme.(1) David Coleman during a football match, 0-0 after eighty minutes: "If neither of these sides scores a goal soon, this match is going to end up as a draw."(2) During a televised snooker game: "He's going for the last red, and for those of you watching in black-and-white, the red is just behind the brown."(3) During a boxing tournament involving a black-skinned boxer and a white-skinned boxer, Smith: "Both men are wearing red gloves and black shorts, Smith is the one wearing a white stripe down his shorts."(4) The late John Arnott and Brian Johnston commentating on an England cricket match: Brian Johnston: "Barrington is at first slip, crouching, legs wide open, hoping for a tickle."Arnott: "You mean he's hoping for a catch, Brian."(5) John Mottson, during an England-Germany football friendly in about 1978: the English team had two black players who became involved with the German defence in a goal-line scrap and set-to which the referee and linesmen had to sort out. Mottson: "Good heavens, I hope these Germans aren't racially prejudiced."
Search as you may, you will never find a description of what "sacred sex" or Tantra really aims for and what couples are supposed to do to achieve it.I do not mean the numerous love-making positions which one can find illustrated in many books pretending to have the answer, but the actual aim of the ritual.The avoidance of stating the true aim, except in terms such as "the flowering of the human being in the divine by sexual means" occurs in the best and most authoritative works on the subject of the Hindu Tantra, for example. Jean Riviére: "Le Yoga Tantrique Hindu et Thibetain", 1962 stated: "Man wishes to raise his consciousness. The primitive sexual rites constitute a means to achieve that state of consciousness...in this book I do not wish to present the details of the procedures used to put into action the dormant forces of the human being. I will simply say that the subject was skirted round in Tantric schools with both fear and devotion."Since no member of this site is likely to become depraved by knowing what the rites are intended to achieve, I feel I can at least lift the veil on my own experience of "sacred sex".In considering whether to write a story revealing this information, I would like to know whether the girls in particular would find it of interest since "women are far more likely to achieve cosmic consciousness through sex than men, and that is why the woman is always the Initiatrix in sacred sex". Based on the response to this question I can make my decision in peace.
Probably I suffered from an unresolved mother complex, but from seventeen onwards when I deserted the family home my interest was always in older women of my mother's age. I pursued the head of the typing pool, a divorcée of Anglo-Arab ancestry who was forty when I had my eighteenth birthday. She came from a good family in the fens of England. I became infatuated after a kissing session at the firm's Christmas party. We met twice monthly for a few months, nothing sexual happened and then she did not want to see me again for being too sexual at the cinema.When I reached 22 I contacted her again "on the off-chance" and now she was interested. She resumed the twice-monthly evenings out to the cinema. In the cinema she did the cuddling. I never had sexual intercourse with her, she got her satisfaction from cunnilingus which I preferred doing anyway. In the back seat of the car after the cinema, her entire interest lay in playing with me sexually and watching the ejaculation. My trousers and underpants had to be around my knees, never anywhere else. I had to describe what I was feeling, answer numerous questions. She took measurements of everything. Our last meeting would be forty years ago. The relationship was latterly entirely sexual. I expect she has passed on by now, but I still recall those glorious moments when I was her slave for sexual enlightenment and I hope I always served her in the way she liked best.
that a Nigerian relative, of whose existence she had never been aware, had left her fifteen million dollars in his will, and she had only to follow these simple instructions to inherit. First,
Over sixty-five you can actually feel how it takes its toll in energy loss.
Every woman is unique as when sees when perusing "open shot" girlie mags. Under no circumstances should we approve what is suggested, and what is known in the Moslem world as "female circumcision". Frequenting call-girls as a teenager I remember a girl who had a flabby looking mass of flesh below her pubic bush instead of a clitoral hood. This unwound into a "string" over twelve inches long. I had a hundred questions to ask about this and I thought it was fabulously exciting, but to my regret she didn't want to talk about it.
Yes, I agree with Stephanie, a story tends to acquire a life of its own once started. My first submission "Resolving Gizelle's Dilemma" is based on some true facts. Whereas I started out with a quite straightforward plot, based on a certain 19-year old girl close to me who inspired the story, and with her picture propped up before me to stare at while typing, a question occasionally presented itself which seemed to make the story more logical and likely than I had originally planned. As a result the thing careered off in a totally new direction.This first submission of mine has been written in chapters as I go, the fourth and last episode is still in my head until tonight.
My mother died at the age of eighty in 2002 and now, at the tenth anniversary of her death, I feel free to reveal the details of our weird relationship. It is an example of the strange twists of terrible misfortune and luck which may befall the family member. There is no doubt that Virginie Rosehay was my biological mother, but exactly who she was remains for me an unsolved mystery. I...
Added 30 Oct 2012 | Category Incest
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In the early 1970s, as soon as I turned sixteen, I was encouraged by my classmates at school to make an appointment with a call girl to savour the delights of sex. Under no circumstances were my parents to be told. I rang the number provided, went directly to the address with my five-pound note and was received by a grinning maid who considered that I seemed underage and asked to see "the...
Added 21 May 2011 | Category Spanking
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PART TWO OF THREE At this point in my narrative I should explain a few details about my mother. The promontory known as Viking Point stands 500 feet high and is almost sheer cliff amongst rugged and broken coast with a boulder-strewn shore. Our house is built into a large niche in the cliff almost three-quarters of the way up. If you draw a line due east from the house across the North Sea,...
Added 23 Mar 2011 | Category Incest
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PART ONE OF THREE My mother Muriel and I lived at the coast on the outskirts of a small village. Our house with grounds within a ten-foot high wall, and known as Viking Point, was perched on a rugged cliff overlooking the North Sea. To reach it from the village one walked the length of a steep, long winding lane. Since we both had to walk to the village and back at least twice daily, and...
Added 18 Mar 2011 | Category Incest
| Votes 14 | Avg Score 4.43
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