Sugar and Spice

Tag: Masochist

  • Let’s get kinky…

    A few of my sugar daddies are kinky, which keeps things interesting; nothing wrong with vanilla, but it’s nice to mix things up every now and then. I guess I’m also quite kinky, after all, I enjoy being tied up and dominated when the opportunity arises…  

    When I’m with my sugar daddies it’s not about me though; and whilst a few of my sugar daddies are dominant, more often than not I’m in charge, which is fine. 

    I did feel a tad guilty the first time I slapped an old man in the face and spat in his mouth whilst telling him what a useless shit he was, but you get used to it.  

    As a sugar baby, my job is to help my sugar daddies explore their sexual fantasies and desires, and introduce them to new things; be that toys, role play, bondage, prostate massage or pegging, there’s not much I won’t do. 

    My sugar daddy Nigel is certainly kinky, describing himself as ‘sexually deviant’. He isn’t shy about it either, which is great; I love it when people know what they want and aren’t afraid to ask for it! He actually introduced me to electro-stim, a shocking experience (ha ha), but not as scary as it sounds; although you have to really trust someone when you’re tied up and they have the ability to electrocute your genitals!   

    Nigel’s also what they call ‘a feeder’. I’ve come across a few in my time, and as someone who enjoys eating, I don’t mind; although I couldn’t be in a relationship with one. His guilty pleasure is Maltesers, which I also quite like; the only issue is that he likes to suck them and feed them to me from his mouth. Sometimes I know it’s coming (which is bad enough) but other times I kiss him and get an unexpected soggy surprise… eugh.  

    As is typical with feeders, food also ends up in bed with us, either smeared over body parts, or fed to each other, in what I can only guess is meant to be romantic? Whilst Nigel gets a lot of pleasure from feeding me, I don’t always appreciate the extra calories. One night he nearly made me sick feeding me a chocolate and caramel pudding; I couldn’t look at chocolate for a week afterwards. 

    A bit of role play is always fun though. One of my sugar daddies likes to come to my house and give me spelling tests; yes, he literally has a list of spellings stored on his phone for the occasion. Lifting up my skirt and pulling down my panties, he’ll bend me over his knee, spanking me each time I make a mistake. I’m not great at spelling, but it’s really come on; amazing how well you can remember things when there’s something at stake.  

    If he’s feeling particularly cruel, he’ll play with my clit whilst I’m trying to concentrate or give me a word such as peace (which could be peace or piece) and punish me for spelling the wrong one…. bastard! He’s actually a history teacher, so maybe I should just be grateful that it’s spellings and not historical dates he’s testing me on… 

    Ed (see my blog ‘The Sadist and the Masochist’) obviously needs to take control in the bedroom and will turn up with an assortment of items with which to make me squirm. During one session, he pulled out two handfuls of brightly coloured clothes pegs, each attached to a length of string, which he proceeded to peg along my naked body, from my inner thighs up to my breasts. 

    He left me squirming for a while, then made me count down from 5 before pulling the string and ripping the pegs off in one swift action. I was expecting it to hurt (which it did), but wasn’t expecting it to feel as pleasurable, it was like an electric shock travelling the length of my body. 

    In between meetings he threatens me with them, promising to add another peg every time I disobey him; I had 36 pegs last time we met (I’m a very naughty girl). He played with my clit whilst ripping them off, the contrast between the pain and pleasure was amazing.  

    On another occasion he enjoyed dripping hot red wax over my body whilst I was tied up and blindfolded, I didn’t mind the wax too much but was terrified that he was going to drop the candle on me or set the place on fire.  

    Very occasionally I’m persuaded to do things I don’t enjoy so much, like drinking my own urine, which I can safely say I (probably) won’t be doing again. The sugar daddy involved loved being pissed over, drinking my piss out of a glass, and getting me to piss directly into his mouth though… each to their own. 

    Often my sugar daddies know exactly what they want, which is good, because I don’t have to think about it. Sometimes however they’re not so sure, they want to try something, but don’t know what, so it’s up to me to get creative.  

    Over the years I’ve amounted an impressive selection of toys and equipment, so it’s usually fairly easy to find something suitable; however, it doesn’t always have the desired effect. I used a prostate vibrator on one of my older men who was having trouble getting it up, hoping that it might get him hard enough to fuck; which it didn’t, his cock was as limp as ever. He enjoyed it though, saying it was quite relaxing, which it must have been, as when I removed it from his ass it was covered in shit. 

    Talking of shit, I’m not a huge fan of eating ass, which is hypocritical, as I enjoy having my ass licked out but am less keen to return the favour; not saying that I haven’t or that I don’t, I’m just not that keen on doing it. Fingers are fine, I’ll happily shove as many of them as you want up there, I just don’t really want to use my tongue.  

    Having said that, I did stick my finger up a guy’s ass once and ran headlong (or fingerlong) into a shit coming the other way. Cleaning your own shit from under your fingernails is bad enough, but when it’s someone else’s…  

    I do appreciate that not all men are expecting, or prepared for a cheeky finger, but if you think it’s going to be a possibility, at least clear the way first. 

    The other thing I’m not keen on is feet; not that anyone has ever asked me to lick their feet or suck their toes, but if they did then I’d struggle. Again, no problem with men playing with my feet, it’s actually quite nice. I know it’s a big thing and people are really into it, but the majority of the men I know don’t have nice feet. I’ve seen some pretty vile looking toenails in my time…why the hell would I want to put them anywhere near my mouth… 

    As much as I try to fulfil my sugar daddies’ fantasies, there are some things that even I, as eager as I am to please, just can’t do. For example, one of my sugar daddy’s is desperate to find a sugar baby who’s breast feeding, so he can suckle on her tits. He’s got a fetish for ‘milky boobs’ (as he calls them) that I cannot satisfy; which is a shame because I think he’d pay handsomely for the pleasure… 

    Ultimately, we’re all different though, which ironically is the only thing we have in common. It’s unusual to find someone who doesn’t have at least one weird kink in the bedroom, and if they say they don’t, then watch out, it’s probably just been suppressed.  

    Quiet Gary from finance may be a married, middle-aged man who enjoys missionary once a week, but mark my words, one day he’ll flip and his wife will come home to find him in a full gimp suit. It’s always the quiet ones……     

    If you do enjoy doing weird things in the bedroom then good for you, I’m not here to judge, or tell anyone what they should or shouldn’t be doing. After all, suppressing sexual desires is not healthy, so as long as it’s safe and legal, find someone similarly inclined to explore it with and embrace your inner freak. If it’s not legal or you find it disturbing, then find a therapist and explore it with them, either way, you have to find a way to live with it. And if you want to lick my asshole and suck my toes, then go ahead, just don’t expect me to return the favour! 

    Emily-Rose xxx

  • The Sadist and the Masochist 

    My meetings with Ed are met with a slight nervousness, as I know I’m going to be punished, no matter how good I am. He was clear from our first meeting that he needed me to be completely submissive and wasted no time in showing me who was boss.  

    The first time I experienced the sting of his belt against my naked flesh, it took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes. It hurt, it really hurt, but he didn’t care. I cried out as he lashed me several times, pausing between each one, watching my body tense and twitch in anticipation. I have a safe word, but it’s to be used sparingly, and I’ve only ever used it once.  

    In-between the thrashings, he is tender and loving, gently caressing my body and giving me pleasure; telling me how beautiful I am, and how much he adores me. He makes me cum several times, my pussy shamefully wet after such cruel treatment; revealing that on some level it turns me on, a fact that troubles me slightly. When he makes love to me, he is passionate, taking his time to fully enjoy my body before allowing himself to cum inside me.  

    We meet at a travel lodge, a useful location due to the early check-in time. He is very clear that he needs 6 hours with me, and I’m punished if I’m late. I’m regularly slapped in the face for answering back or speaking when I shouldn’t. It’s never too hard, but it always takes me by surprise. 

    Before we meet, he sends instructions, dictating what I should wear, how to do my makeup, what to do with my hair, and what colour to paint my nails. To get this wrong would result in further punishment. I’m not supposed to wear knickers when we meet, I forgot about this once, and he got really upset; needless to say, I didn’t forget again.    

    After our first session in the bedroom, we head out for something to eat. He walks with purpose and leads me by the hand, so everyone knows that I belong to him; I dutifully follow and keep my head down as instructed. At the restaurant he orders for me, I don’t even bother looking at the menu; he will choose what I eat, and I will be grateful for what I receive. In a weird way I enjoy not having to make decisions, it’s oddly relaxing.  

    I guess Ed must be in his mid to late 60s, though I don’t know exactly how old he is; he won’t say. He’s had a tough life, which shows on his face, especially when he frowns; yet his eyes are a beautiful bright blue and full of life. Despite having had cancer in the past, his body is sturdy and strong. He dresses like a gentleman and wears a trilby hat when we’re out in public; which with his grey beard gives him a rather distinguished look.  

    In between the alternating punishing and lovemaking, we talk about life and who we are as people. Ed is struggling under a mountain of responsibility; his job is stressful and involves travelling to less developed countries. He sees so much poverty, war and suffering, and whilst he’s doing what he can to help the situation, it’s a never-ending ordeal which he finds exasperating.  

    At home he cares for his sick wife, who becomes less able with each passing month. He describes the pain of watching the woman he loves deteriorating in front of his eyes and talks about the terrible suffering in places like Syria and Ukraine, which trouble him greatly. He gallantly shoulders it all, but I can see how it wears him down and eats away at his soul.  

    In moments of vulnerability, he will weep in my arms at the thought of all the injustice in the world; normally just after he’s come, the action of coming not only being a physical relief, but an emotional one too. At times like these I just hold him, gently stroke his hair, and reassure him that I’m there and he’s safe; the man who was beating me moments before, is now a weeping child in my arms.  

    As sad as these moments are, they are at the same time very special, and incredibly moving; my heart feels for him, and I want nothing more than to ease his suffering and take away the pain. Sometimes we cry together, not needing to talk, just being together in our sadness. 

    I often wonder why Ed is the way he is and why he treats me the way he does; and have come to the conclusion that he needs a place to be dominant and feel in control, as in his normal everyday life he feels somewhat powerless. He cannot control his wife’s health, or what is happening in the world around him. He has so many people relying on him and making demands; looking to him for answers that he just doesn’t have. The lack of control in these situations makes him angry and frustrated; but as he wraps his hands around my neck, controlling my breath, my very life force, he knows that in that moment he has total control.  

    In punishing me he can temporarily rebalanced the suffering in the world, metaphorically speaking that is. He arrives feeling exasperated and tired, but leaves feeling strong and replenished; grateful to me for temporarily easing his pain and suffering. 

    You probably think I’m crazy to put myself through this, money or no money. Indeed, in my ‘normal’ life I wouldn’t condone this behaviour or endure such treatment from a partner; I don’t have time for men who are abusive towards women. Ed is not a bad person though, he’s actually very kind and thoughtful, and I don’t for one minute believe that Ed has ever (or would ever) treat his wife or anyone else the way he treats me, unless that was the arrangement.  

    I know how deeply he loves his wife, and how gentle and patient he is with her. He only does this to me because I allow him to, and that’s a really important distinction to make. I have given him permission to do these things to me, I can stop whenever I want; and walk away without any repercussions.  

    Whilst on the surface it may seem like he has all the power, I feel very much like I’m the one in control of the situation. Whilst he goes away from our meetings feeling strong and empowered, in a weird (and maybe messed up way) I feel the same. I may be marked and sore, but I have not let him break me. I have remained strong, taken his anger and frustration, witnessed his tears, and made him feel safe and secure. I walk out with my head held high, and my spirits lifted by the fact that I’ve made someone feel better; and in my own little way made a difference. 

    *P.S: I don’t want anyone for one moment to think that the above is comparable to physical abuse within a relationship (something I’ve not experienced). I don’t condone physical abuse and would never be in a relationship with someone who treated me like this. This is not healthy behaviour or compatible with a truly loving relationship.  

    In real life abusive situations there isn’t a safe word, or necessarily the option to walk away without consequences, I am providing a service and being paid for it though. If you recognise any of the above behaviour in your own relationship then I advise you to seek help, you do not need to suffer in silence. I choose for 6 hours a month to be treated like this…. you don’t need to. 

    Emily-Rose xxx