Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Women pleasuring themselves

A woman’s position in the sexual world used to be pretty straightforward - under a man and deciding the ceiling needed a new coat of paint.

But in two thousand and sex that’s all changed. Sisters are doing it for themselves, doing it for other sisters (and brothers), and, as I recently discovered, doing it for massed audiences.

Just type ‘doggers’ into google. There are so many sites with so many women displaying themselves as candidates for a good lay in some suburban lay-by.

Now to be honest, most of them look like Bob Hoskins with bigger tits and rather more body hair, but you’ve got to admire their guts. Actually you can’t avoid them in their legs-wide-open poses.

But relax, my choice of liberated ladies is much cooler.

Which explains the cross looking lady with the whip, I don’t often post a pic (as I’m a technical twat, can anyone explain to me in simple English how to post a pic on my profile – what’s all this URL shit?)

Back to Mistress Moody, I bet that zip is chafing her arse, no wonder she looks so petulant. But seriously she’s here because I’ve been popping into some pervy clubs for some background for my book.

Here I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe. But that’s for another time perhaps and make sure you haven’t eaten anything before you read it.

So here’s Sadie’s Short Study of Modern Female Sexuality:

September. 2005. South London.

She looks like that rather quiet girl in Accounts. She’s got neat shortish hair, light make-up, and a faintly demure expression. She’s wearing a duck egg blue cropped top and a mini-skirt. Just the sort of thing a 20 year old might wear for clubbling except…except…

…except it’s vinyl. Ok, the more fashionable amongst you will say that this is exactly what the young folk are wearing these days but wait and see why this is important.

She’s got two men friends. And frankly, I’m not sure her mum would think they are suitable company for a nice young girl.

One is an old bloke, easily in his 50’s. His head is shaved, he’s in a well-used white t-shirt (which comes off later), but he’s lean and muscled and he’s wearing a battered pair of leather trousers.

Nothing surprising here, I suppose, especially as that description would fit just about everyone in the “Bulldog” pub in Brighton on a Saturday night.

But, actually, it’s the other chap who hints at abnormal behaviour.

He looks like one of Def Leopard’s more indulgent roadies. In fact, the guys would have probably fired him for giving the band a bad name. He’s wearing a cowboy hat, several bone necklaces, he’s stripped to waist and has bigger tits than most of the women there each adorned with nipple rings and he’s unpleasantly hairy. He’s also lavishly tattooed, and wearing leather ‘cowboy chaps’ but what singles him out comes in pairs – namely his balls.

These are huge (and I’ve seen some big un’s in my time!). They are barely contained in a rather disgusting pair of black underpants. There’s probably a grotesque cock in there somewhere but fortunately tender souls (like myself) are spared this nightmarish vision.

So you suddenly worry for the morals of Ms Accounts.

Particularly as Baldy starts tying serious looking ropes around her waist. Ingenious knots are produced and the whole thing is strung from the ceiling.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention that this is happening at a new BSDM club – so maybe she isn’t as innocent as she looks!

The two guys pull on the ropes and our lady swings into the air.

A quite large audience has gathered to see the fun and we are all shocked to see that on dressing to come out tonight Ms Accounts seems to have forgotten to put her knickers on.

Her undercarriage swings before us and we are all given a gynaecologist’s and then a proctologist’s view.

I look around and see that the majority of the gawpers are female. Thinking about this later I decide it’s probably because most women (particularly straight ones) don’t see many vaginas (apart from their own) and are keen to compare.

Let’s face it, you don’t see any in photos, apart from men’s magazines, and they have been retouched to look like pink candy swirls. What women really want to know is: is mine abnormal or does everyone’s untrimmed minge look like Bill Oddie sucking a lemon?

So we look at Ms Account’s Accunt, which by now is facing upwards as she’s hanging upside down.

Baldy is tightening the ropes but Ballsy pulls her legs apart, looks down and licks his lips in an unseemly manner.

He then produces a plastic funnel and plants it in her pussy. She squirms a bit as this is done, as you would! He twists it roughly and, in the audience, dozens of cunnies contract in sympathy.

Then, Baldy produces a jug of cream and pours it into the funnel. It overflows and cream trickles down her arse crack and onto her skirt – so now you see why it’s vinyl.

They then haul on the ropes and she’s twirled back onto her feet. She then ‘pees’ the cream back into the jug. And we all applaud.

So who says variety is dead on the London stage?

I don’t get a chance to talk to her but a colleague at the club who knows her reports that Ms Accounts does this and other ‘acts’ because she loves the attention, the buzz of exposing herself (literally and theatrically) and the thrills not found in ‘normal’ like. And who can blame her?

Later, Baldy and Ballsy bang nails into their flesh. Baldy attaches himself to a plank via the skin in his arm and Ballsy secures his scrotum to the same piece of wood.

I’m not there to see this (do you think I’m fucking mad!) but I bet in Ballsy’s case the nails were at least six inches long.

August 2005. Kent

I’m having a chat about Marrakech with Amanda. She’s got a quite posh accent and looks like she could be in PR. Her yellow jacket and skirt look the business and you can imagine her talking complete bollocks at some sales conference.

We’re just on to favourite ‘riads’ when a man in a black shirt and trousers taps her on the arm. She looks apologetically at me and says, “Sorry, must go, see you later”

They go off together as if they are about to dance.

But instead Amanda walks up to a huge wooden frame and leans over it. The man then shuts her head and hands in a set of stocks.

He pauses as she shifts herself to get comfortable then he flips up her yellow skirt to reveal her big bare bum.

Not totally bare actually, Amanda’s wearing a black thong that’s stretched along her crack.

The man, obviously a perfectionist, reaches over and hooks his thumb under the T-bit of the thong and pulls it upwards to ensure that all of her cheeks are exposed.

Amanda’s arse is jutting out and the shape that her body makes at this angle is rather pleasing. From her high-heeled shoes up her toned legs with glossy black stockings to her two expensively tanned bum cheeks the overall effect is extremely sensual and I bet I’m not the only voyeur who’s affected.

The man then picks up something that looks like one of those fly swats that African Leaders carry.

He teases Amanda’s tushie with it and then lets fly. The lashes hit her skin with a dull ‘thrwack” but Amanda doesn’t move.

He gives her six on each cheek and then brushes his hand over her arse to massage it and relieve the pain.

Still not apparently satisfied he produces something that looks it is left over from the Spanish Inquisition – a flogger.

This, like some super-size 'cat o' nine tails' has very long lashes and he swings back with a vengeance then brings it brutally down on Amanda’s botty. The ‘crack’ echoes around the club and I flinch instinctively.

“It sounds much worse than it feels”, says a large 30 year old man next to me who’s naked but for a tiny black backless pouch.

But he’s nothing special because I’m in a BSDM club and just about everyone, especially the women, is semi-nude.

Amanda isn’t an ‘act’ she’s just one of the many singles and couples being attended to by the Doms and Dommes. Arses are being spanked and whipped, nipples are being nipped, cocks and balls are being tortured and bodies are being bound with ropes.

I tear myself away from Amanda’s back view and wander round to watch her face. Her eyes are closed but she doesn’t react violently to the violence that’s being administered. In fact, she has a blissful look, fuck she’s really enjoying this.

Now I’m as partial to a playful spanking as anyone but this is Mutiny on the Bounty stuff – it must hurt like hell!

But later, Amanda cool and calm with skirt re-arranged talks fondly of, yes, the pleasure of exposing herself (literally and theatrically) and the ‘thrills’ not found in normal life. In fact, she's a regular here.

She also confesses that although her partner doesn’t share her taste for BDSM he certainly likes it when she returns from a night like this hot bottomed and as horny as fuck.

Oh my dear, such larks!

Summer 2005 Kent

I’m with a couple of friends at a nudist club on one of the last warm days of the year.

We’re relaxing around the pool on a lazy Wednesday. My friends, two gay blokes, are members and they’re telling me that the club, which used to be rather famous for rather naughty parties, is now trying to attract the local ‘swingers’.

Nudists are, perversely, rather conservative about sex, (perhaps it’s all those ‘carry-on’ films and seaside postcards that, in the UK at least, make naturalism a bit of a dirty joke) and many members are rather upset.

I always think that being called a ‘member’ in a nudist club is rather funny – but then I have a rather childish sense of humour.

Our dozy conversation is interrupted by the loud voice of a woman. I look over and see a blonde girl in her 20’s standing on the edge of the pool taunting some guy in the water. I give her the lookover.

Slim toned body, smallish tits, tiny nipples, nice pert bum, couple of tattoos and shaved. OK, but nothing to ruffle my flaps.

She goes back to the seat and gives us a flask of pink as she leans over and kisses another man.

The guy in the water gets out and joins the two. They all bicker and joke and the Blonde screeches with laughter. But my friends and I forget them and get back to snorting about the swingers.

Some time later, one of my friends looks up. “Hey we ought to go and see this” he suddenly says.

I look and see that the threesome have gone and one or two of the single ‘gentlemen’ that nudist clubs attract are leaving too.

I follow my friends over to the woods that surround the Club’s open tanning acres.

I then see a circle of scrawny male arses around a little clearing in the trees.

Feeling a bit ‘out of it’ I dawdle on the perimeter but then my natural voyeuristic tendencies take over and I move closer.

There in the centre of the circle is the blonde girl. She looks around at the audience and with a rather bored expression on her face rests her hands on a log so that she is bent towards us.

The two men stand next to her visibly aroused. One, who seems to be her boyfriend, then moves forwards, grabs her arse cheeks and spreads them.

He then places his face on her front bottom and licks her like an eager spaniel.

She wriggles and moans quietly. He then stands up and thrusts his cock into her.
At this she starts to talk:

“Oh shit, oh shit, shit, shit shit” she says, her voice rising along with his increasingly rapid movements.

Disappointingly, there’s no satisfying crescendo of orgasm (as you always get in a Literotica story), instead he just pulls out.

Then he indicates to the other bloke who now takes over, cock in slot.

He rams a bit faster causing her voice to rise.

“OH SHIT, OH SHIT, SHIT, SHIT” she rasps. It’s not exactly love poetry but she seems to be getting stuck in – or rather the bloke does.

As all this is happening, the male chorus around them are busy themselves. Hands cup cocks and move up and down in what appears to be synchronised wanking – it could all be set to music.

Suddenly, the man stops and pulls out. The boyfriend then steps across and spreads her cheeks again. He manipulates her cunt lips back and forth and I wonder if he’s going to do a ventriloquist’s act.

But sadly, he’s just offering her to any of the assembled throng. There are no takers surprisingly and then he spots me.

He yanks her apart and nods his head at me then back to his girlfriend’s bits. I’m sure he’s hoping for a variety act to finish the show. But I disappoint him.

Like a good “News of the World” reporter I make my excuses and leave.

But, as I go, the girl looks up and sees me. She then gives me a really empowered woman to woman smile. And I get the full meaning.

I’m sure if instead of showing her my retreating bum I stopped and asked her why she did it, she would have had a familiar explanation.

Something like, the pleasure of exposing herself (literally and theatrically) and the ‘thrills’ not found in normal life.

And all this is happening in rural Kent, not a mile from home-going commuters, mums picking kids up from school and conventionality.

Cool Britain, anyone?

Love to all my stunning sisters

Sadie xxxxx


Don said...

Such horrific decadance! Britain is clearly on the fall side of that famous equation of empires -- parts of it. Other parts are clearly on the rise, at least for the moment. Out here at the new world's western edge I'd be on the rise too, I think, given such an intrepid and connected reporter as you to find the way. But alas.

I killed that other blog. Too well behaved to also be honest.

Sadie Dark said...

Hi Don,

I don't think we're the evil empire anymore - somewhere else has assumed that undesirable description at the moment!

Britain has always been decadent and women have played their part (or parts!) but I've noticed that women are getting involved to just amuse themselves more (rather than entertain men)

I noticed your blog had gone. I'm sure your enthusiastic audience will be sad. Have you any plans for a new one?

Love Sadie

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