Cassie and I have decided to speak candidly about aspects of our sex lives here. She has already explained some of the reasons why, and there are others which we won’t go into. One thing we haven’t mentioned yet however and which we may explain more fully sometime is that we both feel that sex is a gateway into the psychology of ourselves and others. It is a way to know and express yourself in a unique way. It can be both therapy and the deepest pleasure. With that in mind I will continue. I will admit I am a bit shy of exposing this much of myself publically but I will try…
I was was a nice girl. Good at school. Polite. Well behaved. And perhaps I still carry some of those aspects with me, but I also had a darker side, a part of me that wanted to go against the grain of how people saw me. I think I looked younger and more innocent than I felt I was. I was well educated and had a pretty singing voice, so I rather liked swearing and smoking so much my voice became deep and husky. My skin was clear and in good condition so I was keen to cover it in tattoos. I was pretty and nice and kind and expected to settle down with a nice boy so I slept around and went looking for the bad boys although actually the ones I found weren’t really bad at all. Part of this was just typical teenage rebellion, but partly I was trying to find and be my true self.
In my early sex life I think I sacrificed deeper more meaningful relationships for more experience of sex. I didn’t admit it, even to myself. I played the part of the nice girlfriend but always found reason to dump the nice boys. They were lovely, I could genuinely speak for hours about how nice they were. But sexually they didn’t satisfy me. A few of them experimented with padded hand-cufs and that got me interested for a few moments; but they didn’t know what they were doing.
Then I had my first girlfriend. That was different. That was very nice at first. She was a little older and wiser than me and I liked that. But even she ultimately disappointed me in bed. We split up when I was twenty and I went several months without a lover. I even stopped masterbating, I thought I had devoted too much time and energy to sex and should concentrate more on my studies and making platonic friends and being nice to my family. And then I met the man we shall call Thomas.
Thomas was exactly twice my age. He had been married. He was an artist and musician. He knew things. He had life experience. He swept me off my feet. The first time we slept together I knew I was dealing with somebody totally different to anybody I had been with before and that excited me. Even that first time he did things that none of my other lovers had ever dared. I knew from then it was going to be an education.
One of the things that impressed me in the early days with Thomas was that he was genuinely interested in what turned me on and took the trouble to find out. Not only in the bedroom itself; he took me shopping. We went to various sex shops, places I had never been to before. We bought various toys and magazines and most importantly for me at the time I bought a new sex wardrobe. I experimented with lace and leather and rubber. I began to learn for myself what I felt sexy in and how dressing up could add spice to our sexual antics.
He took the lead in matters of sex. I was happy with that because in most previous relationships I was always somehow in control. It was good to play a more submissive part but over a few months it became clear that I was not just being the more submissive of the two… He was the Dom and I was the Sub; fully and truly. I read up about it. I played my part well. I enjoyed it. And ever more elaborate forms of bondage came to play an increasing part in our sex games.
He was good with ropes and knots. After some experiments we found different ways to bind me that were tight and controlling but not too uncomfortable. I don’t enjoy being bound so tightly that it burns or hurts although I do sometimes like there to be some marks afterward. What came to be our favourite position saw me bound in a crouching or kneeling position on the floor or on the bed or a table with my hands tied behind my back. The finishing touch was fixing a ball gag in my mouth… I am an articulate person in three languages; not being able to speak any of them was frightening, and yet exciting. All I could do was grunt and moan and very quickly I would be drooling uncontrollably. I felt like I was being reduced to my most basic, animalistic self. Sophie with all education and sophistication removed and with only the primal instinct to fuck remaining. And then he would have his way with me, often making me wait, teasing and deriding me. Sometimes he spanked me with his hands or with paddles, sometimes he would tickle me with a riding whip or whip me harder like a disobedient horse. By this time I would be desperate to feel his cock inside me, and I didn’t mind where; but again he would make me wait until I almost couldn’t bare it. When he was pleased with me, he would release my gag just before he came and I would take him in my mouth in a frenzy like a beggar who hasn’t eaten for months.
After some months of this I think I was beginning to worry about the psychological effect this kind of sex was having on me. I was enjoying it, in fact I would say I was getting addicted to it; but it was also making me question who I was, and indeed my value as a person beyond sex. And then he suggested that we change roles…
For me to play the dominant one was such a change in our sex life and in our whole relationship that I must admit I was very bad at it at first. I felt very nervous and insecure. But in surreal conversations over breakfast and at the supermarket, Thomas made it clear he wanted me to keep trying. And so I did.
The key once again was to go shopping… As Thomas was keen, he let me use his credit card and I went to a sex and lingere shop where I kitted myself out in the most extreme, badass dominatrix attire I could buy, complete with tassels, sharp studs and high heeled boots. Getting dressed in it helped me to get into character; or perhaps more honestly to find the hardcore dominatrix bitch within me.
Thomas didn’t like extreme pain which was just as well because I wouldn’t have felt comfortable inflicting that on him. My tastes include some aspects of S&M, but only to a limited degree. What Thomas did like though was to be totally dominated and to some degree humiliated. During the peak of this phase of our relationship a typical scene would go something as follows:-
After dinner I would order him to go and have a shower and return to the living room naked. By the time he returned I would have dressed up and we would both fully assume our roles. I would make him kneel in front of me and walk around him, inspecting the goods and chastising him sternly. He was not allowed to reply unless I gave him permission, and if he did speak out of turn I might use my riding whip across his buttocks…
“You didn’t wash behind your ears… You dirty boy… Yes, I called you a boy…” Slash! Whip!
Sometimes I would sit on his back and pretend to ride him like a horse, or rather…
“Bad doggie! Go faster doggie!”
While riding him I would expose my fanny and rub it up and down along his back while gently massaging his buttocks or lightly whipping them. Then I would order him to lick me but he was not allowed to get off his hands and knees so he could only lick my boots and my stockings. Then…,
“Bark!” I would order, “Bark like a real dog! Bark louder! No! Not woof, woof; you imbecile! Howl! howl like an animal… Go on that’s better… Now look, the door is opening… Your mother is there… She can see you for the animal you are! Oh look, there is your boss! What does he think of you now? Bark! Howl! Go on! You are not a person you are an animal… A really stupid animal!”
“You want to fuck me don’t you? You want to fuck me like an animal! Well you can’t. I want a man, not a pathetic little boy who thinks he’s a dog! I want a real man, not a stupid creep like you! Stand up… Stand up now!”
Then he would sheepishly stand up straight. I would walk around him, stroking and prodding him fairly gently with the tip of my whip, finally focusing my attention on his erect penis. Eventually I would take his cock in my hand and begin to work, pulling and massaging, gently at first but ever more vigorously. All the time I would berate him in various ways, telling him he was not good enough for me or for anybody. Some of the insults could be quite deep and hurtful based on things I knew he was sensitive about. At the same time I would begin to squeeze the base of his cock and all around his balls; not quite actual torture but far more than playful. And then just when he was about to explode with cum I would stop completely and give him tasks to do.
“Sing me a song!”
“Dance for me.”
“Pour me a drink!”
“Light my cigarette!”
“If you cum before I have finished this cigarette, that’s it for tonight. We don’t speak until morning and you can sleep on the sofa!”
And that was it really. I’d leave him standing there, aching for sex but being denied it until I was quite ready and he was ready to explode. I would then give him precise instructions about how I wanted him to fuck me and if he carried them out exactly we would both be satisfied, and if not I would punish him with the whip and an early end to the “session”.
I enjoyed it for a while, for quite a few months even. I was fascinated and slightly disturbed to explore this darker side of my persona. But ultimately I got bored. My initial attraction to Thomas was based on the fact that he was the experienced one and I could trust him to take control while I was the more inexperienced and submissive one. But he could never go back to that. Once he had discovered Sophie the dominatrix that was all he ever wanted me to be. But I knew I couldn’t be happy just playing that one role and only expressing the darker more controlling side of myself. So we split up. I had grown a lot. He hadn’t.
Well, I’ll stop there. Writing these things down does make me think and re-examine things. It is a kind of therapy I guess. Since that time I have had a lot of long and short term relationships; not all of them so intense. After Thomas I knew I had it within me to be both the total sub or the total Dom. But often neither extreme is necessary. One of the reasons Cassie and I get on so well is that we are quite similar in that respect. But I will leave it to her to say more. It is her turn next.