Fuck you Dad

Not everything in my life is kink or sex, a lot of it is normal and vanilla. This post is in no way kinky, but I had to write, I had to get it out.

This is what I can’t say on facebook, what I cannot write under my real name. Family would read it and get shitty. They will all have an opinion on it, and none of them were there.

Yesterday, my wonderful Husband drove my sons and I to my Father’s care home to say goodbye. He didn’t even want us in his flat, we stayed in the communal lounge.
He’s terminally ill with cancer, “his time” expired in the coldest part of winter. He is alive yes, but he is a mess. He doesn’t look himself, or even sound himself.

He doesn’t know my children, that was his choice. I wasn’t a planned child and I was pretty much cut from him my whole life. Until I tracked him down to invite him to my wedding 2 years ago. All I wanted all my life was a father to love and protect me. But I had no father, no dad. My mother put me in extreme danger by her shite relationship choices after the fling with my father, and as I result a children’s charity were actually my legal guardians after the abuse. I so wish I had been adopted.

I’ve tried so hard to be a good parent, without a good example to follow. I nearly died when my first child was born. Then I had a mental breakdown due to PTSD after my second was born, partly because I thought I might die again, partly because of violent abuse in my childhood. I love my kids, and they were both planned and wanted. Even though I have found it hard as hell, I love them both dearly. I’m just the child who was discovered too late in pregnancy to abort – I’ve been told that to my barstard face. The accidentally pregnancy when they were drunk.

My Husband realised I was uncomfortable trying to talk to my Dad, that my Father was looking stressed and so he took the kiddos for a walk to a playpark he googled so we could be alone.
My Father wasted no time – as soon as the door shut behind my children he told me my youngest was the worst child he’d ever met. That I was parenting so badly and needed to sort myself out. Let I was letting him be bad, encouraging it. That my kid would get murdered by my teenage son because he is so goddam annoying. Seriously. That he was headed to a jail.
He kept saying in various ways how crappy a job I’m doing of parenting, so I say “I think hes got aspergers, he doesn’t do well around new people and situations” and he shut me down, stating again my kid was off the scale naughty, and in no way special.

All this because after 3 hours in a car, he stood on armchairs. He took his shoes off first, so his feet weren’t leaving dirty marks – polite and considerate play. He wasn’t being an animal, he wasn’t screeching or shouting. Parents or aunts/uncles might know the game “the floor is lava”? Well it was just that, then he put cushions in a row and used them like a bed. Apparently also the stuff of savages.

He kept complaining at me for well over half an hour, I was crying, but didn’t want to leave a man I might not see alive again. Rather than stopping when I cried he held my hand and said something like “its for your own good. He needs to change. You need to change”. I said sarcasticly something like sorry for crying, and “its the first time you’ve cared enough about me to tell me off” and he says hes trying to help me.

I told him as we left that he won’t be seeing my children again – even if he sees me again. I’ve been crying pretty much non stop since. Yet here I am, in the back seat of our car, my littlest guy holding my hand as he dozed off. My big lad in the front talking geeky stuff to my Husband in the front seats.
With my awful savage children.

FUCK YOU DAD, FUCK YOU. You don’t get to parent me 30 something years after you abandoned me. FUCK YOU. I will love and protect them, even from you, Dad. You are alive, but they just lost a grandfather.

The chain clinks and my heart melts

There is definitely something hot about the sound of a chain, not a dainty one that suspends a pendant, but a heavy chain like my collar.

I love it when my Husband grabs my collar, whether that is simply holding his hand across the back of my neck during a passionate kiss, or the sound of it cinching tighter and tighter if he pulls on the padlocks. Just recently I have discovered a love of pleasing him, rather then simply being a selfish lover. I have discovered I actually rather enjoy giving him blow jobs and he certainly isn’t complaining. Over the last few months we have ended up having more oral sex than standard sex, yay.

Why am I telling you this? Well, I’m not really sure, but as a lady that used to Hate giving head, I guess I’m writing about this for myself. It used to make me feel physically sick, the idea of ramming a penis into my face. The idea of swallowing his semen, gagging as my tonsils get covered in salty sticky goo, it was vile to me.
But now I enjoy it – I enjoy watching his body move and react, the glint in his eyes, that look of almost pain as he climaxes. It is rather bloody satisfying if I’m honest with you all. That feeling that my mouth can do so much to his entire body, almost make him dance. When I try to make love, be that loving gentle sex or fast and furious fucking, I feel awkward and clumsy. I really cannot move my whole body as easily or gracefully as my tongue.

But my Husband had to go one better, and be in charge still. He will grab my hair, and direct my head down the bed. Then after several times taking the control back by using my ponytails, he started using my collar. Grabbing my collar firmly and pulling my face up his shaft, and pushing me back down with the other hand. Up and down, and up and down, harder and harder until I am stifling tears from the pain of my gag reflex versus forced deep-throat.

It is glorious, the sound of my chain clinking as my head bobs up and down fast. My padlocks hit his balls, and my nose bashes on his belly. It feels like it lasts for hours, but it is just minutes. I roll my eyes to the side and glance in our big mirror – the joy on his face would make me smile if I was able to, but, yanno, penis stuffed in my mouth and all that.

I lift my head away after he cums, and he releases his grip. I snuggle up with my head on his chest, he will stroke my hair, wipe my tears and kiss my forehead. In those moments, I feel special, I feel overwhelming love from him. It’s not just sex, it’s so much more than that. It’s like blind trust, the pulling of my collar, (which is a symbol of trust and love) and restricting my breathing. All the time I could tap out (safeword) and stop it, but I don’t.

There is a beauty in brutality.

Kink is my Mindfulness

Today I had to go to a “mindfulness” group. We are all sat on chairs in a circle, like an AA meeting. The group leader says to sit still, close your eyes, and slowly goes through a script, which he knows off by heart. Concentrate your mind on a certain type of feeling, a certain type of sensation, or a certain body part. Try to declutter your mind, to free your body. It all feels a bit silly at first.

Mindfulness is a sort of meditation almost, thinking yourself calm as things around you go belly up. Every time I go there I get asked “how did home practice go?” and I say something evasive like “ohh, I forgot” or “I just did mindfulness in the bath” when what I really want to say is I kinked the hell out of it.

One of the exercises we often do is called a body scan – this is a slow meditation thingamybob where you almost over concentrate on your breathing, your movements, automatic sounds your body makes – almost to the point of ignoring everything but the instructions on the script (or app, or podcast or similar). That is how is supposed to be done.

What we do….

I will tell my Husband I want kink time, maybe directly, maybe by being bratty. Either way, it’s ending up in bondage, impact play, role play or some other kink. More often than not, impact and sensation play. Instead of laying on my back on a yoga mat pondering why my leg hurts, I’ll be laying front side down on my bed, knowing exactly why I am feeling that. The script is my master’s voice “well done Wife”, the gentle caress before a spank, the whispers near my ear to check I’m listening. The firm grip on my wedding hand to remind me I’m loved.

My normal vanilla stresses are pushed aside whilst he’s in charge of my body and mind. For all I care there could be a hurricane outside, I wouldn’t hear. He makes me laugh, wriggle, talk, cry, smile and so much more.

I wish I could recommend kink to the mindful group, but I suspect I’d be considered a freak. I mean, why would a seemingly strong woman WANT her Husband to hit her? Believe it or not, it’s about controlling my own life, not being controlled by him, which is often the assumption if folk ask why I wear this chain around my neck, this padlocked collar. I am going to suffer everyday, the exhaustion, all over pain and everything else that goes with my illness wether or not I want to. Yet when he spanks me, or runs a pinwheel across my skin, that is the only part of my body I feel.

Obviously, I am not saying kink cures illnesses, it so doesn’t. But when I’m in his loving hands, my normal pain melts. Just us in the room, just us in the universe, and nothing else matters.

Was I satisfied by Satisfyer Penguin Pro?

A little while ago Satisfyer emailed me, and I nearly fell off my chair. They asked if I wanted to review a toy for them. My reply was biting their hand off. Do I want to try out a sex toy many people are raving over? Heck yes.

Satisfyer penguin pro review
Image from Satisfyer.com – used with permission.

So what is the Penguin Pro? Its a clitoral suction toy, you place it over the clit and it pushes and pulls air around it, creating a wave of pressure. It was one of those toys I read about and thought “yeah right, that’s a gimmick” but how wrong I was. I am one of people that get over sensitive through direct clitoral stimulation, and this gives the feelings of being touched without the actual sucking. Think of it a bit like a partner giving oral sex, that soft and gentle tickling, yet still powerful and dry.

So, how was the Satisfyer Penguin Pro tested in the Dyke household?

Husband isn’t one for reading the instruction leaflets, we had something similar to this in the past, it can’t be much different or so we thought. I was slightly restrained and on my back for an hour, whilst he kept placing Mr Penguin (yeah, I gave it a nickname) on me. Holding Mr Penguin with one hand and using the other to tease me with all manner of phallic toys, including glass dildos and classic vibrators. The instructions said you shouldn’t use it for such extended periods of time, but lets call it science – destruction testing if you will. It kept running all that time, it didn’t get overly hot, it didn’t moan, and my god it kept me moaning.

Several times since this has been in our toy draw I’ve asked him to get out Mr Penguin. Why? Well, to be honest, it’s adorable. It gets me to climax within minutes, but as we learnt can keep me there for an hour. The penguin Pro is also waterproof, made from sturdy plastics, and wonderfully cased in decent quality silicone in the style of a tuxedo wearing penguin. It charges with a neato magnetic wire – so basically there are 2 metal terminals on the Penguin Pro’s bum, and there is a circular disc on the end of the charging wire, with strong magnets that only allow it to connect in the correct way. This solves the problem of toys we’ve had in the past that recharged via tiny needle like charging pins, and the silicone was meant to reseal itself around the pin size opening as if by magic, but after a while we’ve found these things failed. Supposedly waterproof toys would get internal damage. Not an issue now, thanks Satisfyer, also not a problem if you are a squirter like I am.

One particularly fun playtime with Husband and Mr Penguin was when he got it out during a fisting session, yes, I said the F word. This resulted in me squirting so hard my foot got wet. No my legs weren’t bent up yoga style, I was lying down! To me, that’s one hell of a sales line “made me cum so hard even my foot got wet”. I got asked the next morning on the way to my car by a neighbour “did you have a party last night? Was a lot of screaming and laughing?”

Alas, my naughty canine companion has a thing for leather and rubber. One day after washing this kickarse toy I left it on my bedside table to air dry, and the pupper nicked it and tried to take his Tux off! This was not meant to be part of my review, but to be fair, it is impressive folks. IT STILL WORKS. It is electrically sound, the main body is intact except some teethies marks, it still charges, and he still sucks me off wonderfully, he’s just no longer waterproof. Take it from me, this mutts teeth are sharp, I’ve been bitten by them as a younger pup, and needed medical help.

Things we love –

Noise level. Most powered toys are not subtle, this little gem makes a bit of a loud rumbly noise when not in contact with the body, but once you seal the air in it goes at least 50% quieter.
The battery life. Look, it lasted an hour straight, and still had more juice in the tank for a few more playtimes.
That it is waterproof. (Well, my Mr Penguin isn’t waterproof at all now, but that is not Satisfyers fault – Cuts evil glares at the mutt).
The appearance and feel of it. There is no point having a pretty toy if it doesn’t work, but fuck me sideways this works.

Things we don’t love –
**tumbleweed**

Basically, I wholeheartedly suggest buying one if you have a clitoris, or begging Santa for one. I have heard of men using them on the penis tip, but we can’t vouch for that one.
Buy at Bettys toy box US and Canada readers.

 

Disclosure

I was sent this product for the purpose of reviewing. My opinions are honest, and I was not paid to be nice. Contains affiliate link.

Launch competition – cheap thrills

Roll up, Roll up! Blog kinky has now officially launched. As you can tell, if you take a peek at the dates, I’ve been writing a little while now. I only made the blog public in the last week or so, so I’m calling it new. Humour me?

So, to encourage you kinky lot to read my older posts, and to follow me and read newer ones, I’m bribing you!
Prizes, a launch competition, AKA free shite. Come on, you know you wanna enter? So what am I trying to bribe you with?

Launch prizes

Basically I went to my local sexy shop, which happens to be Ann Summers, and bought a few bits. They love me in that shop!

A breakfast in bed kit (flavoured lube, a suggestive menu, blindfold, rose petals). Loads of condoms in a small size. A moustache shaped vibrating cock ring. a set of thumbs cuffs (could also be used as a key ring). A set of cock, tit and pussy rubs which are meant to intensify orgasms.

Blog Kinky launch giveaway

It’s taken balls to write honestly about my sex and kink so far, and a bit of reader interaction would be kick-arse. What would you like to read more of?

Get on that bed and spreader ’em

For a long while I had been intrigued by the thought of spreaders bars, but it was only very recently Husband bought a set.

I wanted cold hard steel, but I couldn’t find what I really wanted. I sulked a bit, and Husband hit Trussed when he was alone to buy a wooden set.

Image from TrussedUK.com
A whole lot of wood.

It was a suprise gift. One of those “do you trust me Wife?” situations. I was ordered to bed and on went the cuffs, and he arranged me as he wanted and clipped my various cuffs to the bars. It started out as a gentle impact play session but soon got a bit rougher.
I could move, but it was belly crawling only. As I tried to escape like and ungrateful caterpillar he lifted my lower body off our bed using the bars. Hot, hot as feck. Oh, I like this new game.

As I’m restrained, yet not totally immobile, Husband started some orgasm torture. The idea of very long orgasms might sound super-duper but there is a limit to what is comfortable. I always end up begging for him to get inside me. I don’t know about you, dear reader, but when my lover cums inside me it is like a massive release. Without the happy ending I’m left on the edge, irritated and a bit miffed.

Image from Trussed UK
Lots of ways to attach your S type to these bars.

It was odd, being able to move but not well. To roll over is nearly impossible in some configurations, and as you can see from the above image there are a few ways to tie your partner down. I was surprised how hard I could struggle, to fidget and wiggle. I likey, not so much for sex but hell yes for sensation play, buzzy toys and impact.

It was sold as a set of 4 bars, 2 shorter and 2 long. The kit came with 4 clips, but Husband bought extra carabiner clips so there are more options for which limb he clips where! You could also use these bars with rope, chain or metal handcuffs. The bars sit neatly beside our bed headboard, hardly noticable. This is good that they are small and easy to store because Husband searching for toys in the tool bag is a bit of a turn off. I like not knowing what he is plotting until he does it.

If you don’t have spreaders yet, chop chop. Trussed UK

The newest impact toy

When I said I didn’t like canes, I was wrong. I didn’t like how they had been misused on me in the past, it was a mental block I had to get past.

Well a few weeks ago I mentioned how much I love impact toys, and that I like chains whilst at a munch and somehow the conversation got intetesting. One of the men is a blacksmith… his ears perked up at some of my ideas. Well at the next munch he presented me with the product my mind had created.

A custom made cane, just for me!
A custom made cane, just for me!

Husband has bent it a bit as you can see, but this is a prototype. This has potential I must say, the marks it leaves are hard to hide that’s for sure.

 

My only problem…. finding reasons to get punished for.

I adulted at Pride

As friends know I was at Pride in my local town this weekend. One of the stalls in the park was a sexual health charity, (https://www.eddystone.org.uk) a very nice bloke on the front had spoken to me earlier in the day so I went back later…. they were offering free testing for HIV and I knew I should.

I’ve always had low immunity to viruses going about, I swear I have a cold, flu or sore throat about half my life! Low immunity is a symptom of HIV or Aids isn’t it? No harm in getting checked out.

I didn’t want a test due to drugs or sexual promiscuity, as neither of those things is me. No, my worry is BDSM play parties. I play rough, blood has been spilt. You never really know if your play friends are medically fine.

The test showed negative, I’m all clear But I want to urge anyone reading this to get tested. It wasn’t a needle type blood test, it was a finger prick type. He just did the clicker against my finger and squeezed the dot of blood into a tiny pipette to use in the test. I can’t even see a mark…. you could do this test in a few minutes in your lunch break and your other half wouldn’t know unless you told them.

Go on, get tested please? Might save a life!!

Am I offering or demanding?

I thought I was offering myself to you, Husband. I came downstairs in a sheer lace nightie, so short my white lace pants were on show. I was all cuffed and I had even put a lead on.

I went in to the kitchen, chains rattling as I walked. I washed up, in full view of nosey neighbours and I made you a cuppa, because, well, we are British and I wasn’t planning on sleeping soon.

As I bent down, I gave him the cuppa and point out I’m HIS. Implying strongly I want to be used. He looks at me and says “Are you asking or demanding?” Then he carries on reading! Ouch! It was an offer, almost naked – just enough fabric so I don’t shiver but all the access still. Collar, wrist and ankle cuffs all with D loops to tie me or drag me easily. I think even a vanilla bloke with a pulse would go for that kind of offer from their partner.

I offered myself to you, without conditions or exclusions, my body and mind placed in your hands Husband. Yes, okay, I wanted fucking eventually, but my main gift was being a willing victim. A bit over willing.

Without warning a few minutes later you say “I’m going upstairs. When I come back I expect you to have moved the furniture“. We have a leather foot stool, it’s rather large and it’s our spanking bench hidden in plain sight. I turn on a Motorhead CD to disguise noise a teeny bit and to make a nice mood.
“Now to see how much you trust me Wife” he says as he is in the last few steps down stairs. As he walks I recognise a few things, rope, floggers and the big blindfold. “KNEEL!

Where Dear, isn’t not a clear instruction?” He didn’t seem mega impressed, and I was directed to my knees at the bench. The blindfold was tied on, rather fucking tightly too. Face down in the leather, I feel rope pass my wrists, he runs rope between my ankles and wrists, using the cuffs, this prevents me from full movement but still keeps me down.

Several toys struck my arse, and his hands. Spanking me with spiked gloves and then massaging me with the vamp gloves I crafted for him. I’m not sure wether to scream safe words all over the place or just cum hard. I’m guessing I chose the later as I kind of spaced out in happy pain, and bit of almost primal sighs and noises. I was genuinely dribbling into the leather… I’ve no idea how long I was face down but I know there was blood. Gawd I love it when I feel tiny drips of blood roll across my hot flesh.

He pulls my ropes to make me stand, “follow me Wife” the ropes are still on my wrists and he escorts me to the stairs. He says “open your mouth” and makes me carry my pants in my mouth. I’m still totally blind and follow him up the steps… I’m trying to count my steps so I don’t fall or rebreak any bones in my feet. He kindly informs me when I’m on the last step though. Into the bedroom we go. “Lie down” so I lie diagonally across the bed “WIFE! You know that is wrong” so I mumble a bit and lay in the centre of our bed, head on the pillows, face side up. The ropes get removed but I’m not allowed to touch him yet.

He kissed me and his wandering hands send me into a few orgasms. Infact he plays so damn well the duvet becomes wet. Holding me in a big, full body shaking orgasm for what felt like hours. I desperately want fucking, hard.

Husband says “if you want fucking, pick a hole” so I flip around and go down on him. My stomach is against his, and I’m moving my whole body up and down on him not just moving my head. I really want his hands inside me, or his face. The idea of his fist going inside me was winding me up, getting more than a bit carried away I stretch his balls and bite his penis. I drop hints, I push down harder if fingers went inside, but the swine just wouldn’t finish me off like that. Instead I’m fingered up the pussy and arse. I swallow for him and we fall asleep in each others arms.

Still the question lingered, am a demanding or offering?

I don’t do canes

Canes are a hard limit of mine, the look and feel of them gives me flashbacks and triggers panic in me.

However I felt my sadist was missing out. I decided I should make him a cane. I took a branch from one of our fruit trees (morelo cherry) and I spent a couple of hours whittling it away with a Stanley knife. All the bark is gone and the bumps where new branches jutted out are now smoother. The surface is not utterly smooth, but it is now safe. Along the “cane” you can see darker bits of wood grain that have been sliced into.

Cane
The branch itself was not straight and perfect, but the bends and kinks add to the pain. It has a gradual curve along the branch which makes it good for flicking too.

I presented it to him as he got in from work and I almost regretted giving him a new toy. I was shrieking. I had tears in my eyes and was tempted to safe word, then I caught a glimpse of his face. His face had a massive grin and was clearly loving it. A few more strikes and he rolls me over in a dominant manner and passionately kisses me. I feel safe, warm, protected and loved.

No words were needed but he let’s me know he’s proud of me. I melt in his arms, feeling utter love. He is my Top, my sadist, my Husband, but he’s also my safe place. I’m learning to trust him as much as I love him.