When I was growing up I went through the stage of looking up naughty words in the dictionary. Although I did certainly include the purely anatomical, the words which really moved me were the kinky ones.
Whip, spank, submission, humiliation.
That last one has always got the biggest reaction. A rush of heat comes to my cheeks just thinking of the word. It is humiliating too, to admit this reaction, even to myself, let alone here. Indeed just writing this is making me squirm.
*takes a deep breath*
So humiliation is a definite turn on for me. Mostly though it’s been something I’ve enjoyed in my own fantasies rather than in actual play. The most I usually get is a mild buzz (like when I’m called a slut) as part of a more physical scene. Today I got a surprise.
This morning started gently. Perrin curled up behind me making love to me. He was clearly feeling imaginative because he was talking as he moved inside me, describing scenarios with a third party (actually two of them, because they switched gender) which were so intense they practically made me cum, and brought Perrin to an excellent sounding orgasm.
The inevitable drawback of this, is that I have to wait longer for him to recover and hence to get an orgasm of my own, so I’d cooled down a little before he ordered me to roll over so he could play with my pussy.
He played with me for a little while, but I was struggling to reach an orgasm, and he became (I think) slightly distracted and started picking at my pubic hair. Perrin usually keeps me shaved, but we’ve been busy, and I’d been happy to give any ingrowing hairs time to grow out. So of course he found one, and after freeing it, pulled it out to show me how long it was!
I gasped, that little not quite ‘ow’ sound, which I know he loves. So naturally he did it again. Yow!
I said he was feeling imaginative, because he went back to playing with my clit, talking to me now, telling me how he could spend all evening plucking the hair from my pussy.
No. I mean really, no, and yet the rush of heat I felt in my cheeks and wetness between my legs was unmistakable.
His voice was soothing, pointing out that I’d said I didn’t like waxing because it hurt too much (it does, I scream). This on the other hand…
It was then I realised the rush I was feeling was one of humiliation. I still don’t quite get it. I don’t mind being shaved, and I have no problem with the idea of waxing (if only my pain threshold was higher). There is however something utterly humiliating about the idea of him plucking the hairs out of my pussy one by one.
I was lost, as he stimulated me, listening to him talk, imagining us curled up on the sofa, watching tv, my pussy uncovered and him tweaking the hairs out one by one. I heard him say he’d have to tie my hands. I was shamed again, aware of my fists clenched at my sides, making no move to stop him as he pulled yet another hair free. I heard my voice whispering ‘no, no, no’ but I couldn’t move.
I felt his fingers resting lightly on me, and knew with submissive certainty, that he was going to pluck another hair as I orgasmed. I felt that dreadful anticipation of pain, the knowledge that my pleasure would inevitably trigger it, and that thought pushed me over the edge, and I came.
Such a little thing, but something about this image has been holding me all day. Keeping me desperately aroused. There’s a buzzing in my head that will not stop, and I could scream. This stuff really turns me on.