I was flipping through images yesterday, searching for something else, and ran across this one. I loved this bra! Sadly, on my weekend in Eminence with the Hypnotist, we washed a load of clothes together (hiking/ticks) and it ended up…gray/blue. I am trying to find other things to wear it with, colored the way it is, but not coming up with a lot. (frowny face) Still, I have this image, which I really like.
“Totally want to molest you in that dress,” he says, when I send him this picture. I kind of want to molest me in this dress.
Today is Friday, so it’s Boobday, but it’s also “Biting” for the Kink of the Week, so you’re going to get some boobs, but you’re also going to get some bites, because boobs happen to be a favorite place for my friend Toy to bite me:
But she also likes under the arms and on the sides, and I love how much of a perfect bite mark these are:
In spite of what it sounds like as I admire the marks, I am not a huge fan of biting as BDSM play. Now sex play, with the kind of not-actually-painful nips – love bites, especially along my neck, throat, shoulders and inner thighs – those I enjoy. But the kind of bites that engender the marks above, not so much. I tolerate them, I consent to them, I submit to them, because that is how BDSM works for me, but they are not a pain that I ever really enjoy – at least not to that degree. They don’t ever melt into the kind of masochistic pleasure that other kinds of pain does.
Having said that, they aren’t a limit for me. Given a choice between being bitten and just about any other torment, I would probably choose the not-biting one, but the fact that I wouldn’t choose it, that it is very obviously something the D-type is doing because they choose it (knowing I hate it) is deeply satisfying. In those moments, they aren’t being a service top. It’s all about them, and that makes my little subbie heart sing. I’ve known that about my feelings about biting for awhile.
But there is something else I discovered recently. I would not call myself a marks-slut. I mean, I love my marks, but I don’t get off on them. I enjoy the reminder of the play that we had, and I like showing them off, but there is nothing inherently sexual in them for me. (Now the pain from having my bruises pressed, days later, that gives an instant jolt-to-the-cunt.) But I got a lot of pleasure from looking at these. And bite marks – especially heavy ones like those above – they spread and last. Those marks lasted at least three weeks, and the bruises that developed were much larger than the actual bites had been. And I liked that. I liked looking at my body and seeing them there for days after. And the thing I discovered? Later, when I was naked with K, I imagined him biting me that way. I wanted his teeth marks on my body. I wanted him to mark me as his.
I remember being in high school and the boy I was in love with – my first love, the one whose virginity I took and who took mine – giving me a hickey, one of those sucked-on bruises to the neck. I remember not being wildly turned on by it, as my friends seemed to be – but I loved knowing that when others saw it, they knew I was his. That it was his mouth on my skin that had caused it. Of course, things being what they were, they also thought I was “easy,” that I was a slut or promiscuous or whatever people thought about girls and women that (gasp!) had unmarried sex, and worse yet, that enjoyed it. (I grew up in a very small, conservative town.) But still, I wore that hickey like a badge of honor, and refused to show the shame and embarrassment I was “supposed” to feel (even as I did feel it, even as I internalized it.)
I wonder if that was my first taste of transgression, and if perhaps that helped to shape my sexuality ever after? And I also wonder if that feeds into my desire to wear a bite mark as a symbol of ownership? It is such an intimate, visceral experience, being bitten. And those marks – they are obviously not caused by anything else but someone’s mouth on a person’s skin, almost-but-not-quite penetrative.
Hmm…maybe there is something sexual in there for me. I may just be talking myself into a thing for biting as a kink. ;-)
Me: Check out the bed head!
Him: Sorry, what? I was staring at your nipples and wanting to pinch them. It was something about head, right? Yes, you can give me head. Good girl for asking.
The Kink of the Week is “Breasts,” and of course today is Friday so it’s Boobday! I thought about taking the easy way out, and just posting a pictire of my tiny-but-powerful titties, but…well…I actually have some words about them. I know – surprise! right? But first, okay, since you asked so nicely…
I recently watched the video of myself that this clip came from. It was hot, and weird, and sexy, and uncomfortable watching myself do lewd things on video. I’ve got lots of images, and I’ve made more than a couple Marco Polos, but there’s not a whole hell of a lot of video of me doing nasty things out there, and less often do I watch them myself. The topic of this video – and the way it came about – was particularly kinky, and something I haven’t yet decided to share. But what I did want to share was this image of my breasts.
I’ve always loved my nipples. Perky, delightfully-shaped, delicate in color and oh-so-sensitive – I am a fan of them, as are and have been most of my lovers, once they discover their secret. And sometimes even if they don’t.
My breasts, on the other hand…
I’m not a hater of tiny titties. I have loved quite a few in my days as a lover-of-women. And there are times when I see them and think, okay, they are kinda cute. I love having them manhandled, mashed and pulled and squeezed and pinched. I like them bound and clothespinned, tied in rope and cropped with canes. I’ve enjoyed having them flogged and whipped with a singletail and splattered with hot wax. I’m not a huge fan of having them bit or slapped, though truth-to-tell even that I enjoy if only for the perverse joy in taking it for my Top. But all that is mostly enjoying them for what they can do, or have done to them. I don’t often look at them and think, “Wow, pretty!”
They are a little lopsided. They aren’t quite round, and they aren’t really much of a handful. They don’t spill out of my tops or fill out my bras; I’m not exactly a candidate for giving a good tittie fucking. Sometimes – especially when I see others’ beautiful breasts in all their full, rounded, luscious glory – I feel…less-than. Found lacking; unfeminine. Not always – it’s not like I dwell on it. But sometimes.
But then, as I did the other day when made to watch the video above, I see them as beautiful. So sexy and so female that I was mesmerized for a moment, as though I was watching someone else. They bounced and jiggled so delightfully, I loved the creamy tecture of their skin, and that smattering of freckles – wow, they are beautiful.
They may not be “perfect,” but that’s okay. I’m a fan. How about you?
I know, lots more than just boobs, but seriously, check out those nips! I took this pic this morning to send to K to show off the juxtaposition of my pink-laced panties and the tomboy shirt. It was only when I got a good look at it that I saw how very perky my nipples are (should have been wearing my glasses – ha!) I wonder if he noticed!
Anyway, here they are, looking like they are celebating Boobday too.
Friday is Boobday, and though you can’t see much of mine, I’m happy with them today. I feel sexy in a warm, quiet way, sitting on my couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blankie, my hair mussed and wild, listening to the thunder and the rain outside. It’s lunch time and I am working from home, so that means a nap after reading for a bit. I used to feel guilty when I napped at lunch – there’s so many things I should be doing! – but I don’t. At least not much. Who said we have to be productive every minute of every damn day? Sometimes … I just want to nap in the middle of the day.
I haven’t participated much in this meme of late (well, any meme, really) but I felt like posting something – without knowing what – until I saw it, and remembered how pleased I’d felt looking at my breasts this morning. My weight swings wildly about 15 lbs. either way, and when it’s 15 up, it shows first in my boobs. So, though I don’t like those extra 15 lbs., I do like my breasts during that time.
BoobDay is a weekly meme in honour of chests and breasts of all shapes and sizes belonging to all types of folks.