The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

Kinky and filthy things that have happened to us, all explicitly told

Tag: Submissive (Page 1 of 2)

Truly Becoming Those Second Wives (Part Three)

23 June 2026 / / 0 Comments

We each felt very owned. By our second husbands. Even for lunch, we sat on our second husband’s lap, their cocks pushed into our cunts, not fucking, just existing, just being penetrated, just being filled. That’s why Helen and I had their cocks in our mouths whilst the other women were preparing food, to get the cocks hard enough to penetrate our cunts whilst we ate.

For most of lunch, Rose’s husband was firmly gripping one of my tits. I cut up his food to enable him to eat with just a fork in the other hand. The other women did the same. The whole lunch was lovely, a regular sort of chatty lunch you’d have with friends, between couples, only in this case, each man had their cock in another man’s wife’s cunt whilst they did it, each woman had a tit being gripped by a man that was not their husband. But it all felt so natural, so normal, so right.

After lunch, with their cocks still buried in our cunts, the men started talking about the night just gone, talking about our fuckings, our bodies, our orgasms, like we weren’t there. It felt quite demeaning at times, being discussed like we were elsewhere. There was so much intensity, so much sex, so many orgasms, so much connection, so much subservience, so much ownership. And this was only the beginning.

Then, it was the women’s turn, and everyone pretty much felt the same. Connected. Owned. By the intensity and relentlessness. In a community where all the women here were regularly fucked by all the men, it was hard to get that connection and ownership. But they managed it, and it was so overwhelming.

It was clear that the men wanted the second wives thing to be far more intense than the women expected, but now we felt it. We had already each got a far stronger bond with our second husbands than before (even Anna) and we were only half way through the bonding weekend.

At the natural end of the discussion, we were prepared for an afternoon out, firstly each wife licking their husband’s face clean of their second wives’ squirt and girl cum, an example of the wife being subservient to the second wife. The men quickly took a shower to clean up, and each woman was bent over the kitchen sink, her armpits were washed, and her hanging tits were subjected to a long totally unnecessary cycle of soapings and rinsings. Below the waist was messy, sticky, cummy and totally untouched by water. Our armpits and tits were thoroughly dried with towels, and then each of us had to bend over again to have a well-lubed butt plug inserted.

And very quickly, we realised these weren’t just regular butt plugs. Firstly, they were quite large, larger than the comfortable ones we each usually wore out and about, stretching our thoroughly overused assholes, but secondly, and most importantly, there was a weight inside the plug, a heavy ball-bearing that rolled around in the casing of the plug, each one of our movements caused it to slide, twisting and pulling on the plug from the inside.

Every single one of us women was well used to going out and about with a butt plug, but not one that would cause movement, give our assholes a workout from the inside. Our assholes were in for a long afternoon. And we were under instructions. We couldn’t take them out, no matter what. Only the men could do that.

So, with clean tits and armpits, with messy cunts and assholes, and with sizeable butt plugs with ball bearings inserted, we were dressed in only a sundress and shoes, and taken to the van. Then, as we were loaded into the van, our second husbands applied a clit clamp tightly to our poor abused clits. They were really squashing our clits, and with the movements in the butt plug, this afternoon would be a challenge. Far from being a few hours off, we would be very much sexually used throughout our afternoon of shopping in the city, whilst the men did something manly. Not sure what.

We women kissed a lot whilst we were around the city centre and had quick gropes of each other’s tits and asses, following instructions to make sure our nipples were kept hard and enormous, to make sure they were always on display through our dresses. But our cunts were left alone, left to recover for a few hours, messy and dripping a little as we were without the protection panties could have offered. Our clits, being viciously clamped, suffered, but kept us sexually on edge. Our assholes didn’t get a break either, being filled, stretched even for hours, the plug constantly moving as we walked, the ball bearing constantly shifting, a slightly uncomfortable reminder of our submissiveness, of our ownership, of our free-use. Still, it was lovely to have a break from actual fucking, for we all knew we’d be back at it that night.

When we returned to the van, the butt plugs were each removed, re-lubed and inserted into a different woman’s asshole. This was done slightly roughly. Because they could.

So, re-plugged, we were kissed and our tits mauled by our second husbands, our nipples once again worked to keep them hard and visible, and then we went to a different restaurant from the previous night.

Different restaurant, same table arrangement, same kissing, making out and masturbation arrangements, only this time, we were plugged as well and our clits were still clamped.

After the meal and back at the cottage, clits relieved at being freed from the clamps, assholes being released from the trauma of the ball bearing butt plug and whilst the rest of us women sat with our tits proud and our legs wide showing off our totally messy cunts, the men focussed on new girl Helen again.

Helen was laid on the table, ass slightly hanging off the edge of the table. Anna sat on her face (facing down her body) with her messy cunt pressed over Helen’s mouth, and grabbing on to Helen’s tits for support. Helen started licking, whilst her legs were bent back at the waist and being held by her shoulders (but wide of Anna) by Rose and Tanya, and my husband, his cock having been lubed by me, entered Helen’s freshly lubed asshole, and started fucking, slower but speeding up, his cock growing and getting harder, all the while he was kissing his second wife and gripping and pulling on her tits.

But before any of them came, they swapped people, another second couple taking over, a different cock this time in Helen’s cunt, a different cunt for Helen to lick, different women holding her feet and lubing the cock and asshole where needed. Again and again this happened, again and again they stopped before someone came. Then, at times, the dirty cock was inserted in her cunt, whilst everything else remained the same. Sometimes even, the cock started in her asshole, then switched to her cunt immediately. Helen didn’t care. She was overwhelmed, she was so not in control, and she was loving it.

This went on for hours. As the clocks started approaching eleven, the men decided to start cumming, two in her asshole (my husband and Anna’s), one with a dirty cock in her cunt (Rose’s) and then, for the pièce de résistance, where Helen was allowed to cum, her second husband (Tanya’s) was ploughing into her asshole, her husband then climbed onto her body, pushed his ass back into Tanya’s husband’s body, and then inserted his cock into her cunt. Helen’s first DP, completed with Rose, Helen’s husband’s second wife, having her cunt pushed over Helen’s mouth, Rose kissing her second husband and occasionally Helen’s. And they fucked until they came, all of them, even Rose. It was wonderful to watch, us women sitting in the arms of our second husbands, being gently masturbated as we watched.

All us women were so tired, and so it was time to head off with our second husbands in the bed arrangement from the previous day, but our second husbands still wanted to fuck, so fuck some more we did. Such is the life of a submissive.

But before we did, there was a small matter to clear up from the previous day. Rose and I both came without permission during our overnight ownership, and our second husbands both decided we needed a small, symbolic, proper punishment, to enforce our second husband’s ownership. I’ll be honest, it’s hard to punish subs like me and Rose, women who love being spanked, women who love having things like tawses and belts used on our asses. But they found something that really felt like a punishment. A riding crop (a real horse one) applied eight times in quick succession to each nipple and eight in quick succession to the clit, square on, fast, painful. Not enough to bruise, but enough for us to take heed, enough as a warning to the others, who were seated on their second husband’s lap as the audience, the second husband’s arms round their waist and semi-hard cocks in their cunts.

Rose and I drew lots. Rose went first. She stood, hands behind her head, and one at a time, her second husband picked up a tit (with a hand underneath it) and crisply, quickly, smacked the nipple with the head of the crop, eight times. By the time her second nipple received its eight, she was crying.

She was then arranged on the edge of the table, leant back with feet spread wide and placed up on chairs, giving him the perfect angle, giving him a lovely spread view. He made her use his fingers to clear her clit’s only protection, to reveal it by spreading her lips, and then, quickly and crisply in the same manner, he smacked her clit its eight times. Still crying, her face red, he sat down with her on his lap, arms round her waist, semi-hard cock in her cunt, snuggling and nuzzling her, comforting her whilst not touching her throbbing nipples or clit.

And then it was my turn. Hands behind my head, my second husband picked up my poor left tit. The eight strikes were applied quickly, but oh my god, the pain. I’m used to pain from my ass, I thrive on that spanking pain, but this was something else. It felt like a genuine punishment. That’s why we cried. And still crying after my right nipple received its eight, the pain in my nipples slowly turning into a dull throb, I was rearranged to make my clit into the target, my fingers removing its cover, its hardness betraying my arousal. The first crop strike on my clit was painful, the eight quickly and precisely delivered, and still crying, I too was held on his lap, comforted, snuggled and nuzzled with semi-hard cock in my cunt whilst my nipples and clit were left alone to their pain.

Truly Becoming Those Second Wives (Part Two)

29 May 2026 / / 1 Comment

I was being fucked by Rose’s husband, sharing a bed with Tanya and Anna’s husband. The others were in other rooms, each man was claiming their second wives as their own, using their second wives as they wanted, the extra rights being transferred from our husbands for the first time.

I had a cock in my mouth, giving it a sloppy blow job, in full knowledge that Rose’s husband would penetrate me with the cock I made hard. I was being a good second wife, making sure he was able to fuck me some more.

He withdrew from my mouth when he was hard enough, and he hauled my body flat onto the bed, a pillow under my abdomen, a finger lubing my recently neglected asshole.

Tanya cried out and came again, as Rose’s husband nudged his glans through my ass pucker. My asshole was always very accommodating these days, and so sucked his hard cock straight in, and he climbed on top of me and started fucking, started strokes in and out. It is a position I feel so comfortable in, and can be ass-fucked in this position for hours. He knew it. So he did. He showed remarkable orgasm control, him managing to drag some empty cunt anal orgasms out of me whilst not cumming himself. He did not want this over. Neither did I.

At one point, I heard Anna cry out from the next room, my husband clearly working his magic on her, but my asshole was filled with hard cock and that cock was showing no sign of cumming. I was sleepy, and he told me I could sleep once he’d finished, but he took ages to finish, filling my asshole for as long as he wanted, and he wanted a long time. Once he did eventually cum, he snuggled behind me, limp cock still in my asshole, a hand firmly gripping my tit, and I drifted to sleep with signs of his ownership reminding my asshole and tit. The others had already drifted off, a dirty cock still in Tanya’s cunt from their last fuck.

All the women were exhausted and we all slept well, when we were allowed. At some point during the night, I became aware of his cock in my cunt, driving in and out as I lay barely awake. I smiled at him and he kissed me. He started fucking me whilst I was asleep. This is specifically allowed as is a husband right that is transferred to the second husband. He was fucking my cunt and deliberately not rubbing inside me to make me cum, and I was still drowsy and very compliant. I awoke more one he changed position to start rubbing inside me, and he told me that I didn’t have permission to cum, that I wasn’t allowed to cum until he said I was. I was so close to cumming, how the hell was I meant to stop it?

He smiled just a little, as he saw my expression change from happy carefree girl with orgasm building to determination to hold that orgasm at bay. He called me a Good Girl and stroked my face, making my tits swell with pride, all the time ploughing his ever hardening and growing cock into my sloppy cum filled cunt. I couldn’t hold it off for long, so effective was his cock at rubbing inside me, at building that orgasm. I started begging. Very demeaning, to have to beg for your own orgasm, and he kept saying no, enjoying my struggle and torment.

I lost control. I came, hard. I clamped down on his cock, hard and made him cum too. Finally still, his cock inside me, he told me I didn’t have permission to cum, and that I’d have to be punished the following day for it. I didn’t care, I had my monster orgasm, and fell quickly back to sleep, in full knowledge I was totally in his control as his second wife.

We were all woken before seven by our second husbands lubing our assholes for our Submissive Sodomy, a brutal ass fuck, slightly underlubed to remind our assholes who is boss, an ass fuck we weren’t allowed to cum from. And it did make us all submissive. It always does. That’s why it is so important. I couldn’t see Tanya, but I could hear her, her asshole being filled then emptied as mine was. Eventually the men came, almost in sync with each other, and we were let off the bed, slightly sore asshole, dripping cunt, and I looked at the clock – two minutes to seven.

Thoroughly fucked, and our bodies in a mess, we emerged for breakfast. So many cummy cunts and assholes, so much cum sliding about. We were a sight. We were in a state. And the men decided we weren’t allowed to shower, as they wanted us to be in a cummy mess all day. We would certainly be that!

We had a leisurely breakfast outside, naked, making sure our tits weren’t covered at all. We also had our legs spread, to allow for casual viewing of our messy cunts. It was a joyful, relaxing affair, the chat was engaging and so warm, but as the breakfast finished, as we had already all been sodomised by our second husbands and not allowed to cum, they told us we wouldn’t be allowed to cum until later in the day, at a time of their choosing. We were already all feeling submissive that morning, and that really added to that feeling. It would be a long old day, until we were finally allowed to cum.

And then we realised what they were going to do. A big bag of sex toys appeared, dildos, vibrating clit torturers, nipple and clit clamps, specula, all sorts of toys were all laid out on the table on the patio, and in turn, wind gently blowing over our overused bodies, our second husbands played with us, edged us, inspected us, inserted things into us, over and over. Implements were passed between the men, used on one woman after the other, not cleaned, just reinserted. Pretty standard for us now.

We were being edged. Mercilessly. Methodically. Cruelly. Nipples played with, twisted, clamped. Tits slapped, swinging as we moved. Cunts finger fucked, spread open by a speculum, pounded by a hand-wielded dildo, fisted for those capable. Clits pulled, squeezed, twisted, clamped. Nipples pulled, squeezed, twisted, clamped. Assholes fucked by a dirty dildo. Mouths filled by soft and hardening cocks. And then the biggest humiliation really, one by one, a free-use women was loaded into a strap-on (taking care to keep our clits covered by a thick piece of foam to minimise direct stimulation), and we had to sodomise one of the other women, neither of us to orgasm.

The edging was brutal. We were pent-up balls of frustration, and the girl-on-girl sodomy pushed us back into that submissive space and pushed the frustration back a bit, and then we started to build it up again. Our second husbands directed our session, even when we were strap-on sodomising one of the other women, it was part of their control over us, carried out with the same intensity. We were being worked on the entire time, never having even a few seconds to recover. We lost track of time, because there were no clocks outside, just glorious sun and the wonders of nature, and five men working the bodies of five women for hours, with each woman doing both sides of the girl-on-girl sodomy a couple of times.

It was becoming harder for the men to edge us, as we were all so close to exploding, and so, when the men started talking about lunch, we were all arranged kneeling on a seat of some sort. Our thighs were moved apart a little and we were bent at the waist, with our asses in the air and our heads resting on the seat.

Our cunts were pretty much at face height, and our second husbands stood behind us, leant in, putting their faces between our legs and started licking at our cunts. And this time, they didn’t stop until we came, which didn’t take long. In fact, after such a long edging session, we all squirted to some degree or other. Helen and Anna both waterfalled, full on soaking the men’s faces. I squirted quite a lot, as did Rose, and even Tanya, who doesn’t really squirt, squirted a fair bit. The men’s faces were dripping.

When they finished their licking, they pushed down on our asses, pushing our legs to be fully bent so our cunts were by our feet and at the height of their cocks, and they slipped their fairly hard cocks into our cunts. And as they each slid in and out of our cunts, they grew longer and harder. As they accelerated, they started rubbing inside, starting another orgasm building. But it was a slow build, as we’d cum so much that morning, so they fucked our poor overused cunts for a long, long time. It felt so good, and knowing our cum and squirt was dripping off their faces as they did it made the fuck even more exciting, even sweeter.

I heard Tanya’s husband yell “Don’t cum yet, bitch” and heard a firm slap of Helen’s ass, then I heard Anna’s husband yell “That goes for all of you” and I heard a similar slap of Tanya’s ass, followed by my ass being slapped and hearing the other two ass slaps too.

We fought our orgasms. We really did. And eventually, Rose’s broke, her screams as she came finishing Anna off, their combined screams finishing me off, then Helen and Tanya followed shortly afterwards.

All us women we exhausted, but three of us were dispatched to the kitchen to make lunch, whilst me and Helen cleaned the men’s cocks with our mouths, over and over until the lunch arrived. I had over half an hour of having my mouth filled with chubby cocks, not working them to hardness, just having them in my sloppy mouth, with a little sucking and tongue work. They didn’t want their cocks to be very hard, just warm, enclosed and hard enough to penetrate.

Mira the cock glove. Mira the Good Girl. Mira the perfect second wife.

Thoughts of Mauled Tits and a Cum-filled Throat

28 March 2026 / / 6 Comments

That my husband gave daily use of my tits to our postman as a reward probably shouldn’t surprise you, given what I want from my submissive life, and given how my husband is looking for opportunities to embrace his inner dom.

That the postman thoroughly enjoys his time manhandling my tits (and later manhandling and sucking them) probably shouldn’t surprise you as well. I mean, who wouldn’t enjoy being able to freely grope, squeeze, suck and generally misuse and mistreat a wonderfully fleshy pair of 34Hs?

That I enjoy him doing that, that I look forward to him doing it, that I want him to do it and that I want to feel the results of him manhandling them long after he has left really shouldn’t surprise you, if you’ve read my blog a lot.

I mean, the clues are there.

The fact that I love it when I’m being fucked with lots of movement and the rhythm makes my tits snap backwards and forwards, when the rhythm makes my tits ache or even hurt from that violent movement. I’ve loved that for years, and in my braless present, I love how frequently I end up feeling their movements long after those movements have ended.

The fact that I love men trying to milk me, even though there is no milk to give, and even though that milking action is really uncomfortable for a milk-free pair of udders like mine, again really shouldn’t surprise you.

But I think the thing that might surprise you is the zeal, the relish I have for his tit-mauling sessions. The desire I have for them. The need I am developing for them. God they are so good. As my husband put it, “your tits are being used to give people pleasure, and that is what they are there for”.

That my husband’s colleague enjoyed me draining of his balls really shouldn’t surprise you.

That my husband offered him my mouth to drain them when they hadn’t been drained for a while again probably shouldn’t surprise you.

But that I did it with such vigour, such style, such over the top dramatics may have surprised you, that I did it with a man I didn’t know with such enthusiasm may well have surprised you.

I’ve never given a random person I didn’t know a blow job before. For the record, I have let random people I don’t really know grope my tits before, quite a bit really. I’ve always loved my tits being played with, being the centre of attention. But a random person blow job is a new thing. And you know what, I’d have had his cock drain into my cunt if my husband had wanted. That is where I am now. My husband didn’t want that, just my mouth. I swallowed and swallowed with all the enthusiasm in the world. That poor man needed his balls drained, and I drained them, properly, completely, in a simple act of helping a fellow human. But I drained them with panache and style. I drained them in a way he wouldn’t easily forget.

It was afterwards whilst I was pondering what happened that I realised that, in the same way as I’m developing a desire for tit-maulings, I’m developing a desire for full loads of cum in my mouth and in my throat, a level of desire way more than I’ve had before and this is a dilemma for me. Because, especially for my husband, I want his cum in my ass and in my cunt, and the same for the free-use people. So I came to the realisation that my increasing desire to swallow cum, to roll it round my mouth and savour it, will have to be sated by random other people, rather than the people I fuck already. That’s one for my husband to work out. One great advantage of being a sub – this becomes someone else’s problem!

I think my husband thought these two little tasks he required of me were a bit tame after the free-use. But actually, I don’t think either are tame. Being instructed like this feels different from the free-use. It’s the being instructed part that really gets me going. I’m a Sex Slave, I’m a Good Girl, and I do what I’m told. I want to do what I’m told. And let’s face it, I’m going to love a mouth full of cock, love a throat full of cum, love an aching manhandled tit.

In my previous life, when I wasn’t a sub, my husband would never in a million years have told me to let someone grope and manhandle my tits, he would never have told me to give a gulping sloppy blow job to someone I didn’t know. If I had asked, he’d probably have let me, but he would never had told me to. But that was then. This is now. Giving blow jobs to someone he wants me to is now. Letting someone manhandle and mistreat my tits is now. Raw usage, raw submission. New for me, and perfect. Exactly what I want. Exactly what I need.

And the pure joy of these acts is that there is no particular reason for me to do either of them, for no other reason than to make me do sexual stuff with new people, for no reason other than to fill my throat with a massive load of fresh cum or to make my tits ache with manhandling, for no reason other than to make his wife demonstrate just how much of a slut than she really is deep down.

There is a simple joy and pleasure in these acts, made kinkier by being performed by order on people I barely know. There is no meaning in it, just a man getting joy from my tits, and a man getting his balls drained in an eager and thorough way.

I’ve never been into meaningless fucks, but these two simple acts have really lit a fire under me. I’ve begun to really appreciate those meaningless sexual acts, to see them for what they are and to enjoy them. And I fully realise that more of these will come. In a life where free-use is the norm, in a life where fucking is several times a day, those random acts of submission are likely to be meaningless, likely to be demeaning, likely to be with people I don’t know much.

We all need sex with meaning in our world (and I have plenty of that, what with my husband, Rose’s, Sara’s, my ex-boss, and Anna, Sara, Laura and Vicki), but not every sexual act needs to have meaning – sometimes a fuck is just a fuck, however it is organised, sometimes a blow job is just a blow job, whoever it is on, sometimes a tit maul is just a tit maul, nothing more.

So, you realise that I enjoyed these acts, but deep down, how did I feel about them? I thought I’d feel cheap, but really I didn’t. I enjoyed them. They didn’t cause angst in my world, I didn’t overthink about them. I just did the best I could, did what they wanted and felt great pleasure, both in being used and in making someone’s day better. I also felt slutty. But I like slutty, I love how slutty Mira feels. For me, feeling slutty is never a bad thing.

I think my husband felt my growing need, and vowed to give me more cocks for my mouth, more cum for my throat and more tit-maulings. He really knows how to look after a girl. I love him so much!

My Tits as a Reward, My Mouth Helps Out

21 March 2026 / / 3 Comments

My phone started ringing, and I picked it up and looked at it. It was my husband, and I answered it with a cheery greeting. He asked what I was up to. “I’m with the postman.” He knew what that meant.

If a normal couple want to give the postman a Christmas box, a thanks for a good year of service, they’d give them some cash, or some beers. Not my husband. He offered my tits, for our postman to look at and grope, to maul for his pleasure. All he needed to say was “I’ve got something for you to sign for”, and I’d let him in. Ideally, my husband wanted me to answer the door to him topless anyway, but if I wasn’t, I was to be very quickly after he came in.

I wasn’t sure he would use my tits in any way, but he bloody did, and my husband gave me specific instructions: I was to stand or sit exactly as he required, with a smile on my face and my hands behind my head unless told otherwise and let him to whatever he wanted to my tits, no questions asked.

There is a certain surreal quality about this man I barely know, who I answered the door to with my tits out, grabbing my tits and working them hard. He wasn’t there for long each time, but I certainly felt his manhandling of my tits long after he left.

So, he got his reward, and I got a bit of non-penetrative free-use. This was shortly after I realised that I didn’t just like submissive things, that I was a proper sub. I think it was my husband proving I was a proper sub, although I’m not sure who he was proving it to, him or me.

I didn’t know he was going to offer my tits, and in fact, neither did my husband. It was very spur of the moment. On the fateful day, I was topless but out of sight and my husband answered the door to the postie. And then, he invited him in!

So, all of a sudden, he could see me, naked 34H tits, which I knew better than to try to hide. I styled it out, not showing anything other than happy acceptance of the situation (which was actually true). I saw my husband’s smile as I carried on a perfectly normal conversation, just with my tits swinging as I moved. I saw the postie’s face too, less smile and more lust and it pleased me very much. I think my husband saw both the postie’s reaction and my joy and excitement, and that’s why he offered him access to my tits.

I put my hands behind my head, which made my tits stick out and he roughly grasped them, one in each hand, and gave them a good squeeze and twist. I moaned, a good moan, an encouraging moan, and he realised, mauling them, groping them, pulling at them, first working the fleshy part of my tits, before focussing on pulling, twisting and tweaking my nipples. He was rough with them. My husband saw and encouraged him, and I, being a good girl, a model sub, just let him do as he wanted with a cheery smile and some verbal encouragement.

And that was the first of many. More delivery days than not, he came in and mauled my tits. As if each time would be the last. On the odd occasions my husband was there, with me, whilst this man owned my tits, he could see how much the postman loved it, which I think is the reason he offered the postie the chance to use his mouth on my tits, again, whichever way he chose.

I can honestly say the hand mauling didn’t reduce in time, he loved that too much, but he added more time to get on his knees and lick and suck on my tits, virtually inhaling the nipples in, the same sloppy or dry choice I offer when giving blow jobs, and as a closing treat, my husband suggested the postie bury his face in between my tits and encouraged me to push them round his face, to squeeze them into his face.

And still, to this day, 4 months after the initial offer, he enjoys my tits at least three times a week, and I enjoy him loving them, I get a kick out of the simple pleasure he gets out of them.

That postie wasn’t the only one my husband got me to service unexpectedly. There was a work colleague, round to work on a project, and they took a break, giving their brains a chance to rest in amidst hard and long thinking. This time, my husband did give me a few hours warning. Before the colleague got to the house, my husband discussed my part in the day. I was to be topless all day, I was to serve them drinks and some lunch, if he touched or groped me, I was to let him (and he knew I’d enjoy it), and the final part, I might be asked to drain this man’s balls. Apparently, they hadn’t been drained for weeks and he was getting chippy at work. My husband connected the two.

But also, my husband realised I needed more cock in my mouth, and whilst the free-use men all used our mouths to warm up, very few times did they stay the distance and actually cum in our mouths, all preferring the lower holes to deposit their load. I wanted more cock in my mouth, I wanted to swallow more cum (good for the protein and vitamins apparently), I wanted more coatings of cum on my face (better than face cream apparently), and yes, he knew I’d even let someone get cum in my eye, up my nose or in my hair. I needed it that much, I needed to slut myself up a bit.

Before I admitted I was truly his sub, he would never have asked me to service anyone like that, but now I’m his to do with as he pleases, he could ask me to do something with someone new, and as I want to please him, I’ll do my best, each and every time. He knows I get a sub thrill from being asked to do this kind of stuff. Servicing random people really wasn’t me, but my sub side understands this is how it is now, and I’m rather enjoying being put on the sexual spot. That and this kind of sub service fills a gap I’m not naturally getting through the free-use.

So, I did the topless hostess thing, which is totally natural to me now, and other than the colleague ogling my swinging tits, nothing happened until lunch. As well as the food, they both ordered drinks, and then my husband added that his colleague needed a nice, long blow job as dessert, that he needed his balls emptying after weeks of them being ignored. I smiled, nodded and said “Of course.”, just grabbing his cock, circling it with my fingers and then pumping it a couple of times, before getting up to get their food.

Now I knew this man a bit, he was nice, so my husband was happy enough to share my mouth with him. And boy, did I go to town. With tits swinging, I gave him the longest, most teasing, tantalising, sloppy blow job I could manage.

At one point near the end, my husband crouched behind me and put his hand up my skirt, masturbating me to keep me going, to encourage me to finish him off, and the sight of me being wanked whilst sucking on his colleague’s cock made the colleague a lot closer to cumming.

Amidst the distracting masturbation, I got his cock so very hard, whilst squeezing and manipulating his balls, and when he did start to cum, I pulled his cock back, so only about half of it was in my mouth, and I almost kneaded his balls, extracting every single drop of his cum that I could get.

Once he was empty, totally drained, I leant back on my heels and sat, open mouthed, with a mouth full of creamy sticky cum, awaiting final instructions. My husband told me to spit about half of it out onto my tits for his colleague to lick off, and to swallow the rest, in one gulp and show my empty mouth afterwards. Once I had swallowed his cum, and he was making progress clearing my tits with his mouth (going back to clear my nipples of cum over and over, even though they hadn’t had any cum on them), my husband told me I was a “Good Girl”, and stroked my hair. I love that, I feel so proud when he says that, every time I go to jelly when he says that and he saw the love in my eyes as he played with my hair. My tits were still being cleared of cum, but I was so pleased. I felt like a proper sub.

When my tits were clear, the colleague grabbed each of my tits in a hand, squeezed them, and said thank you and how much he needed to be drained. I said he was welcome, any time, and I meant it. It is lovely to be appreciated.

As they left to go back upstairs to start work again, I heard my husband tell his colleague that I meant it, that my mouth was available whenever he needed it, and then, as they got further away, I heard him say my other holes are even better, but what I needed from him most was blow jobs. Even so, I had a feeling one day he’d get to try my other holes out.

The Sexualisation of Normal

14 March 2026 / / 4 Comments

I haven’t written that much about our free-use lifestyle, other than the big sessions, the parties. But free-use is my daily reality. Over the course of any given day, I’ll probably have sex with three different men, I’ll orgasm at least four times, at least once from anal, and aside from that, my cunt, ass and tits will be displayed and viewed, I’ll be groped and mauled, I’ll kiss loads, I’ll have cock in my mouth, all on their whim, on their timetable, and the result is that I am kept on a sexual high all day.

On Fridays, because I’m the only one of the four women who is available during the day (and the men are normally on end of week work from home days), I get much more free-use than that. All four men normally fuck me twice each, I’ll cum at least eight times, I’ll probably have anal four times and vaginal four times and then add all the other stuff in too. And that’s before I get to the pub to be fucked into the night by Carla.

Fridays are an ordeal. Fridays are a struggle. Fridays are so tiring, such hard work. Fridays are my favourite day of the week.

To really emphasise the use aspect, the men like us to carry on with what we are doing whilst they use us. Holding a conversation is hard, and quite often, if there are two or more women there, they’ll wait until we are deep in conversation, then someone will start fucking each of us. Two people whose thought patterns are being interrupted hold hilarious conversations, but we have to carry on. It is the epitome of free-use.

And I have to say that the fact that we can’t talk about the sex or anything free-use, while it’s happening or afterwards, is really quite hard. It just has to happen, unspoken, unmentioned.

I’ll quite often be cooking, and they’ll bend me over the kitchen work surface and fuck or masturbate me, whilst expecting me to carry on with the actual cooking. That’s not too hard perversely, just don’t try to follow a recipe. Being fucked whilst reading is hard, and I’ll probably have to go back and re-read those pages. Watching TV is fine, although I’ll miss bits. He’s taken to cradling me and masturbating me all the time I’m watching TV, not trying to make me cum, but if I do, he just ignores it and carries on.

This is one of the big parts of free-use for me: the sexualisation of normal. They fuck me whilst I do normal things, like converse, write, type, cook. I get fucked doing things other people do not get fucked doing.

I think the conversation fucks are the most incredible. Making me feel both important and valued in what is said and a sexual object at the same time, valued and subjugated at the same time. To make one feel both valued and cheap in that moment is quite the gift. That normal people can have a conversation without being fucked, and often I can’t, really keeps me deep down submissive. That I can’t watch the TV without being masturbated really keeps me deep down submissive.

That and almost always being topless, pantyless and wearing a very short skirt at home, so that I am not only available for use, but often visible and displayed, expected to be visible and displayed, proud and yet a constant reminder of what I am, a reminder to all us free-use women what we are.

The no panties thing I did years ago, to give him better access to my cunt at all times. The topless and short skirts at home is more recent, as we free-use women got more submissive. It is our version of a typical slave statue display, and allowing our usually hidden body parts to be displayed, consumed by the free-use men, it is itself part of the free-use. If the people in the room are in on the free-use, us women have to sit, legs wide, skirt up and not in any way hide our tits or cunt. We are to be consumed with their eyes, before being consumed in other ways. It adds to our subservient feelings, and is part of keeping us women on a sexual high.

I’m not allowed to adjust my clothes otherwise. If someone (for example) lifts my skirt up to display my ass, I’m not allowed to pull it down again, unless someone tells me to (or someone or gravity does it for me). If I’m clothed, I’m not allowed to get a tit out, but someone else can. My state of dress (or indeed undress) is totally controlled by others. It’s strangely freeing.

As well as not wearing panties, I haven’t covered my cunt for 8 1/4 years. So, no trousers / leggings / tights. I wear stockings and suspenders and skirts / dresses. (There are two exceptions, swimming (although we go to nudist swimming events as much as possible), and the odd sex act (like panty wetting, but that is as he requires and is for our mutual pleasure)).

Bras are a different matter. I have big tits. UK bra size 34H, US 34K. Until recently, I always insisted on wearing a bra to keep them in check. But I’m a sub now, and I’ve known for the longest time that he’d prefer I didn’t wear one most of the time. I wanted him to take ownership of me, and one of the consequences of that was to deal with bras. I now won’t wear one, unless he wants me to.

It feels a lot more sexual to me, going round without a bra, having them swing around and having my nipples show so much, visible and protruding under a blouse. On the odd occasions I do wear a bra, the bra will be one of the quarter cup ones I’ve had custom-made (as manufacturers don’t make them for my cup size), so even if I’m wearing a bra, my nipples are often visible. And my nipples react very strongly to rubbing on clothes, so they are now constantly enormous, hard and proud. It’s all a part of keeping me sexually aroused.

It’s a big change to not wear a bra at times, a massive change, like my massive tits, and being topless round the home and going out mostly not wearing a bra is new to me. And I very soon realised that attention I’d get with mammoth unleashed tits and nipples the size of bedknobs was plentiful and exciting. My husband has all my old bras locked away, like my remaining panties, and I have extremely large, slightly painful, very noticeable, massive nipples for my trouble. And my husband has been pointing out how magnificent a nipple piercing would look displayed on a massive nipple with a thin layer of fabric stretched over it.

I have done and continue to do exercises to strengthen my back, to allow me to maintain better posture with my tits unsupported for extended periods of time, and I wish I’d done them years ago. I used to believe locking up my tits was the right thing to do, but the free swinging and snapping of my tits, the slight pain in the flesh caused by a day of being unsupported, is wonderful. It sounds perverse, but I love it so much, and of course, I can’t hold on to them, can’t hide them, so gravity does its worst on them all day every day.

Honestly, I am truly happy when I go to bed with throbbing tits, a stinging ass, an aching jaw and a messy cunt where cum is sliding out of it. I am in total heaven when that happens, especially all that with him spooning me with a semi-hard cock residing in my ass crack and a hand firmly gripping a tit.

My friend Shae mentioned (on her blog slaveshae.wordpress.com) that our free-use is not a dom-sub arrangement, more of a free-use kind of polycule. It’s a fairly accurate description. When the penny first dropped about my being a full-time sub, I really struggled, precisely because it doesn’t fit within a standard dom-sub arrangement. I tried to crowbar it in, I went round and round in circles. Don’t get me wrong, my husband is a dom, he is gentle, steady sort of dom, born out of being a natural manager, but nevertheless, he has pulled all these little sub things I used to do into one, and he is very much in control of me, and that is exactly what I want, a warm hugging blanket, built on trust, with a man I would walk to the ends of the earth for, but a man who totally looks after me, a man who has my back, has my best interests at heart and a man totally comfortable with using his property however he wants. It feels pretty perfect right now.

But the rest of the free-use men are different. I liked Shae’s use of the word “culture”. The men have rights to us, to use us, to look, grope, fuck, whatever, one, two, however many at a time. I’m sure they are being a bit dommy when they take us, but I’ve talked to them, and they feel more like they are just taking what is theirs, usage by rule, and we have an expectation to be used that they have to live up to.

It’s the women that have been most affected. All four of us are very subby now, and that’s quite a surprise. We are all fairly strong women otherwise, businesswomen, entrepreneurs, good positive female role models. And yet, with the flick of a switch, we’re back being hugely subby, eager to sexually please. Switching between those roles is a bit of a head fuck to be honest. I have the journey home to switch into the correct mindset, and as soon as I get through the door, I have to switch into the correct clothing arrangement to finish the job.

And the other three women are on the same path, at some point along the journey. Even the one that was resistant to being subby has conceded that’s what she is and is embracing it. We didn’t expect that. That’s why I think this is permanent for all of us now. I really can’t see how any of us can back out of this.

We women are not lower in status because of the free-use. We are still equal partners, still equal friends, still valued, still important, still with the same status we always had. It’s just that certain things we’ve signed over to others. Doesn’t lower our status, just changes our mindset and behaviour.

The sex, the control, the masturbation, the display, the relentlessness, the orgasms, the clothes, the penetrations, the carrying on what we are doing is all a part of the free-use experience. The more we’ve done it, the more things like display and masturbation we’ve added in to something that at the start was mostly about penetration, the more overwhelming and all-encompassing it has become, the more intense our experience is. The men have completely sexualised normal.

And we are about to make our free-use bigger and more intense, more sexual. And every single one of the women can hardly wait.

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