Experiences of Sex and Pain

Even for supposedly vanilla people sex and pain are often intrinsically linked. This post may contain a handful of terms which some are not familiar with, so it might be easier for me to explain them now. Vanilla refers to plain sex, though people use the term differently. Some use it to refer to any sex which does not involve some sort of kink or violence, others use it to refer specifically to missionary sex. Bondage refers to being bound, whether with rope, chains or anything else. Domination and submission refer to power plays, usually just during sex but for some people extending a long way outside the bedroom. Sadomasochism is an enjoyment of giving or receiving pain.

One important thing for this post is the distinction between kinks and fetishes. A fetish is a strictly defined term, and in terms of sex means something without which someone cannot have sex. A kink on the other hand is simply something which can enhance the experience or enjoyment of sex. I have many, many kinks, but no true fetishes.

Now as to my own experiences, my first experience of rough sex, sadomasochism, was also the first time I actually had sex. That one I have already talked about, so this is more for the others.

Mainly in alternative sex, as it is sometimes described, I tend to take a dominant role. It can happen that the right person can push me into a submissive attitude, but that is extremely rare. The first time that occurred was with the same girl who I had my first time with. I ended up being entertainment for a party, though I still do not know how many people there were at the party, having been blindfolded and restrained for the whole time. The details are rather vague and blurred in my head, the whole thing being a mess of voices, hands, and the occasional mouth, for eight hours.

I could barely move afterwards. Being locked with your wrists to your ankles for eight hours of writhing and struggling takes its toll on your joints. I had marks around my wrists and ankles for weeks afterwards.

Of course as I said I have been very much on the other side before, I have had people acting as my pets for days, following every order, surrendering everything in the way of choice to me for a time and taking punishment if they disobey. This is why I am looking forward to my trip to Ireland, it has been a long time since I have been able to play with someone with that level of submission. I have various toys along those lines, a simple whip which I have never used. It is more a prop than anything else. A cane which is particularly well-made, with a nice weight, and leaves good solid welts when correctly applied to the body. Carefully blunted knives which can prick and give the illusion of danger, but are incapable of actually cutting.

Safety is actually important in this sort of sex though. Safe words are used in case things go too far, something I am careful to establish with any partner who may be partaking in risky activities with me. I have spare keys for any restraints I have, and a small set of lockpicks just in case those go missing.

Definitely looking forward to Ireland though, where I can actually put this sort of thing to its full use again. I may not want to indulge every time, but every now and then it is an urge which I want to have a chance to explore.

Everyone Has a First Time

As the title says, everyone has a first time and I am curious about yours.

Not when you lost your virginity. Frankly first time sex stories are usually fairly dull, and useful only to be told in person while under the influence of alcohol. Even the more interesting ones are never that special.

No, my curiousity today extends to alcohol. Recently I have caught myself drinking more than I usually do, and this is not a good thing. I am not drinking enough to get drunk, which takes rather a lot, but I am starting to drink more often on my own when I get stressed or depressed. This got me thinking about the first time I got drunk, and by extension got me wanting to know everyone else's first time.

I am a nosy old git sometimes.

But I will be fair. If I expect you to tell me about yours then I will tell you about mine.

Mine started when I woke up in a nice, clean hospital bed on a Tuesday afternoon, with a saline drip in my arm. No trace of a hangover, or anything else. In fact really the only problem seemed to be that my clothes were missing and I was in a hospital gown. Slowly as I lay there bits of the story came back to me, others I managed to piece together later.

I was fourteen, had just sailed with sixty other people on a three-masted ship with no engine to Denmark and back over the last nine days, and we had hit port a day early. Apart from nearly colliding with an oil tanker, and a mild storm, the trip had been quiet and uneventful. It had been a pleasant voyage, and the captain suggested that we should all attend a bar he knew of in order to celebrate a safe return. This seemed an excellent idea to me at the time, as I thought it would help me accept that the girl I had been sharing a bunk with (no full pentrative sex had occured, but just about everything else had) would be going back to her home town, a good six hundred miles from my own.

To the bar we went, with the last of our spending money. In my own case my left over money was in the region of sixty pounds. I discovered this was more than enough to allow me to get very, very drunk. According to other party-goers I managed to get through twenty to thirty double whiskeys, as well as spreading the joy around. After this I must have thought that it was a good idea to gather up my bunk buddy in my arms, and start back towards the ship, intending on a passionate and prolonged farewell.

This did not go entirely to plan. Somehow we did make it back to the docks, though how is still a mystery to me. I only know that we made it because a few of the more responsible drinkers apparently assigned themselves as our body guards, working on the sensible presumption that otherwise we could well turn up dead, or not turn up the next day. I selected a pier, and began to tug the object of my affections towards the end of it where our ship awaited in the shadowy, unlit darkness.

I then, according to witnesses, vanished with a splash.

Into the North Sea, off the coast of Scotland.

In Midwinter.

I woke up in the hospital the next morning.

Reason I am talking about this is that is pretty much how I feel right now. I just found out, after weeks of waiting, that not only did I not get the job, but that a decision I took today has placed me in direct opposition to my manager, and everyone else in my office, at work. It is a similar sort of feeling to that moment which flashes back to me now and then, stepping forwards onto what should have been solid ground, feeling uncertain but relieved at the potential of safety, then suddenly nothing there except freezing water.

Cocktail Party Planning

I do not often plan or arrange parties. I have thrown some before, but it is usually a case of heading back after a night out to continue chatting, drinking and so on rather than an actual organised affair. So this is something new for me. On Friday I will be, for the first time, actually throwing a party deliberately, with forethought, planning, preparation and everything else.

In preparation for this momentuous occasion shopping has been performed. So far I have bought mixers, alcohol, bases and so on for the actual cocktails. I already have about £200 worth of cocktail making equipment ranging from shakers to a blender to bar spoons. Decorations still need to be bought or made, but that should not be too difficult as I do not plan to go over the top. A few skulls dotted around, maybe some paper chains.

There are some problems however. The first is that I still have no idea for a costume. My budget for the month is minimal, with all of the visiting and driving I have to do, so buying an expensive one is out. I need something simple and cheap suggested, and with my occasional insecurity attacks, not to mention the cold, I also need something that covers my body as much as a full set of clothes.

Second problem is that Miss Complicated may or may not be there, Sweetie may or may not be coming, and another girl who I will explain about shortly will be there.

Obviously if both Miss Complicated and Sweetie turn up I will be engaging in verbal gymnastics most of the night, possibly literal gymnastics if they manage to break the lock on my room and get to my weapons cabinet. Fortunately it seems much more likely that neither of them will make it.

The other girl is one I may need to come up with a nickname for. She has been having an on-off relationship with her boyfriend, gradually becoming more off than on. It seems that it has finally become fully off, at least for the next couple of weeks. She and I have talked in the past, though not seriously, but the main point of attraction for me is that some of my friends have said several times that she would be a perfect match for me, and that I would never get her.

Anyway, if anyone has any costume suggestions, decoration suggestions, food suggestions or anything else feel free to comment.

Oh, and if anyone wants to come along feel free to give me a yell. The only condition will be that you will be required to help restrain Sweetie should she turn up and meet Miss Complicated. It is not that I have lied to her, I have never told her that there is no one else in my life, or in my bed, and she has even given the impression that she accepts that. I just do not think the mix of coming face to face with bits of my life she does not need to ever know the details of and lots of alcohol is good for my health.