The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

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

Tag: Vaginal (Page 1 of 12)

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.

One For Each Year

4 March 2026 / / 2 Comments

I can’t quite believe my husband and I have been together for 14 years. And in those very early days, he groped my tits as if he owned them, he groped my ass like he’d never groped another, he filled my cunt over and over with hard, girthy cock and thick, sticky cum. And I loved it. I was his. I wanted him to take me over and over. And he did. Two and three times a day he fucked me, my cunt got very used to being filled very quickly.

My first period came, and far from slowing down or stopping fucking me because of it, he fucked me more. I always craved sex during my period and he was the first man to oblige. And we barely cleaned up from one lot before he was in me again, my bloody cunt being a magnet for his hard cock. And each time he did it, it felt that he took me again. His blood-soaked cock was in me, no matter what, taking me no matter what. I loved it. I was still his.

And then my cunt got a little uncomfortable. It needed some rest. And so, desperate for him to continue taking me over and over, I offered him my asshole. And he was kind and gentle and understanding, and well versed with fucking assholes, so even the first time, he started slow, but grew to be huge and strong with his thrusts. I didn’t like anal before, but with him, my asshole wanted to be taken, just as much as my cunt did, and I loved it. I was even more his.

Around the same time as the fourteenth anniversary of us being together, it was also the eighth anniversary of this blog. I thought I’d get bored of blogging by now. I thought no one would read it. I thought no one would like it. None of those turned out to be true. All the writing, all the memories. I’m incredibly horny all the time. My cunt is excited all the time. It wants to be filled all the time. Memory is powerful. My cunt is needy.

Also around the same time, it is the second anniversary of our free-use. I thought we’d get bored of that too, bored of being interrupted, tired of being used. I thought our cunts and asses would be worse for wear for all the sex. I thought someone would drop out or it would fold. None of those turned out to be true either. Over time, we grew to need more cock, we grew to need more use. My cunt is needier than ever.

Even an eight person gang bang didn’t sate it. It’s lust to be taken, it’s lust to be filled was growing more and more, and my asshole wasn’t far behind.

Ever since my husband and I got together, he liked marking and celebrating anniversaries, even sexualising anniversaries that weren’t sexual in themselves. He liked doing things to take me over and over again. I had a lust for a filled cunt, for a stretched asshole. And he always made anniversaries count.

The anniversary of us getting together is always celebrated on our own, just the two of us, emphasising our closeness and bond. But since our tenth anniversary of being together, he’s required me to orgasm the same number of times as the anniversary. This year, fourteen. He’s got 24 hours, but there’s just him. We both have to take the day off work. It is so tiring. Satisfying, but tiring.

He uses a spreader bar to keep my legs spread, to keep my cunt available to his hand, to his mouth, to his cock. My cunt barely has time to recover from cumming before he starts again. It gets so sensitive. My cunt needs him to stop, is crying out for him to stop. He knows the fight I have between cunt and brain. And he knows the brain will win. The cunt will have to put up with it. The cunt craves it really. I have orgasms to have. It has no choice.

And those orgasms arrive, as sure as night follows day. He forces my cunt through its refusal, til that orgasm builds again, til my cunt spasms again, gets wet again, sometimes even squirts. It gets milked again for every drop of girl cum, every drop of squirt.

It’s relentless. He’s relentless. I love relentless. My cunt loves it somewhat less. Still, it doesn’t have much choice.

And this year, we mirrored that first evening when we got together. We went out for an Indian (although this time, I had his cum dripping out of my cunt all the time we were eating). We watched a comedy DVD (the same one as fourteen years ago, although this time, he played with my cunt, he wanked me the entire time we were watching it).

Then we kissed, properly snogged. Although this time, the snogs were accompanied by hard wanking. I came mid snog. One of the fourteen. He didn’t stop snogging me. Or wanking me. I was his. He was doing as he wanted. And my body loved it. My cunt loved it.

Right throughout the day, more often than not, my cunt was filled. Cock when it was able, fingers or dildos when it wasn’t. I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t think. I was just a creator of wetness in his hands. I had no will. I just did as he wanted. My cunt just did what it was told.

I can’t explain how overwhelming it was, how much he just played my body like an instrument, over and over on a whim. It’s almost like he was reminding me every second that I used to think I was a one and done girl, reminding me that he made me this way, made me crave his cock, made me cum over and over. I felt like I was just about hanging on, doing what he wanted, proving again that I was his.

I had lost track of where I was, what my cumming tally was. I didn’t have to worry. I knew he’d get me the fourteen. But today was all consuming, today was wanking for wanking’s sake, today was planned to keep me sexually on the edge for the entire day. And my body had no choice. My brain wasn’t going to make him stop, he wasn’t going to stop.

As my cunt came again, just by his fingers this time, he shot me a loving smile, before ploughing four fingers into my cunt again, vigorous, powerful. I threw my head back and closed my eyes, crying out as he milked my tired and overused cunt. I heard a “Just one more, slut” from his soothing voice, my cunt’s ordeal was nearly over.

He briefly stopped whilst he pulled me onto his lap, his erect cock impaling my already lubed asshole as I sat, his hands reaching round my body to both continue the four finger cunt fuck and grope and paw at my already tender tits.

The filth being spoken into my ear, the aching and throbbing of my tits, my asshole being stretched by his still enormous cock, his four fingers filling my cunt and abusing my clit as they fucked it. It overwhelmed me yet again, and I came, hard, extended, not even allowed to finish that orgasm until his fingers decided. He dragged it out. As I stopped cumming, I came up for air.

It wasn’t just fourteen orgasms, it was almost the entire day of being masturbated, groped, tits manhandled, cock in all three holes (often with neither of us cumming, just for the penetration). I couldn’t settle, couldn’t relax even for a second. I was kept on that sexual high all day, I was kept on a submissive high all day (even in the restaurant, he managed it, not least through the cum trickling out of my cunt all the time I was there, my blouse being slightly more open than I’d ideally have liked and the fact that I had a sizeable, slightly uncomfortable butt plug in). I was even penetrated whilst I prepared the other meals of the day. There was literally no rest.

And my poor nipples were punished early on. Manuscript clips, foldback clips, squashing each nipple, the pain of them being applied, fading to a dull throbbing pain, and then the pain of them being removed and the blood rushing back into them. And all the time I endured that, he was masturbating me, almost trying to wipe away the pain with ecstasy from my cunt. Meticulous. Loving. Endurance.

I lost track of time right throughout the day. I lost track of orgasms after the first couple too. The intensity was like nothing he’s ever done. So completely overwhelming. I felt I was fighting just to remain present in the moment, and sometimes I didn’t succeed. Sometimes I drifted away, only to be brought back by an orgasm.

And once I’d had fourteen, and they were fourteen hard orgasms too, once the time slipped past midnight, he put me to bed, intending me to be alone to recover. I cried. I didn’t want him to leave me. So intense had the day been that I wasn’t emotionally able to be alone.

So instead, he spooned me, gripping on to a tit as he often does. It was familiar. It was comforting. It was what I needed. I finally slept, happy, sated, owned, his.

A Messy New Year

18 January 2026 / / 12 Comments

Every single New Year’s Eve since we’ve been together, my husband and I have marked the point of midnight by fucking. We start fucking in the last few minutes of the one year, fuck all through the top of the hour and finish off in the new year.

Wherever we are, we do this. At home, at someone else’s house (in private), at someone else’s house (with an audience) or like this New Year, when we were at an event. A New Year Ball at our village hall. The first year we went to this event, we were planning on going home, but left it too late. So, in desperation, we went round the back of the village hall to find somewhere quiet for a quick sneaky fuck. What we found were a couple of other couples clearly intent on doing the same thing, and already making a start. It wasn’t long before my dress was round my waist and his cock was in my cunt. I was expecting to warm him up, but the prospect of an outside fuck, then getting to watch others fuck as well, made him perfectly hard enough.

I remember on that instance, it was quite warm and so quite a long fuck. This year, it was much colder. My nipples were rock hard as soon as we left the warmth of the village hall. My cunt’s microclimate was keeping it warm, but my ass cheeks soon went cold as soon as they were bared and a cold wind blew over them.

My dress, well that is amazing. It is a full length figure hugging silver shimmery dress. It has a deep, but narrow V plunge (so no bra possible, but the dress is shaped to hold the tits up anyway) and splits from my feet to my waist on each side (important for the fucking). Underneath, I wore white stockings and suspenders. I finished it off with silver shoes and a silver fascinator in my hair.

I would never have tried the dress on, as I would assume it would show every lump and bump, but it didn’t. But it did show the shape of my freezing cold rock hard nipples and my metal suspender clips, both things I was happy to display.

All through the evening, my husband was whispering total filth into my ear. His words, combined with a few tit touches and ass brushes got me in the mood and got my cunt moist in anticipation, and the big old village clock ticking its way towards my impending outside fuck just added to the atmosphere.

With seven minutes to go, he took my hand and took me outside, lining me up with the others out there for a fuck. I groped at his trousered cock, but he didn’t really need that, so I just undid his fly and pulled his cock out, then taking my position bending over, leaning on a fence post. He pulled my dress up to my waist, the splits from waist to floor being critical here, and he just finger fucked my cunt a couple of times whilst he ascertained my cunt was slick enough, then he just lined me up with his cock and then just pushed his rock hard cock in.

Despite being so cold, it felt so good, and the breeze over my ass soon made it even colder. His rhythm was steady, with firm slams in (my arms taking the strain and recovering my body to position each time). My ass cheeks got cold quickly, so every minute or so, I got him to pull out, spank each cheek as hard as he could a couple of times, and then plough back in and carry on fucking. It did warm my ass each time, and some of the other men saw and did the same to warm their own woman’s ass.

It wasn’t practical for him to grab my tits in this dress, which would have been handy, as it might have warmed my nipples up. There was no warmth in this dress, and even though it was only a couple of minutes, my nipples were so hard, and by the time it reached midnight, they were so large and so painful. But there was no relief and my cunt was happy, so I carried on. He had been slowly building my orgasm since before midnight, but was going quickly and accelerating now. I was so close, so in to the fuck that I completely forgot my surroundings, forgot the audience, forgot the exposure. And a woman crying out next to me as she came was what finished me off too, me adding to the cries, my cunt clamping down on his cock. He gave me another couple of valiant strokes, before pulling mostly out, so his glans was just inside my cunt, and it was there he came. Copious amounts of cum that had built up in the last nine hours, and all of it deposited just inside my cunt.

I knew what he wanted. He wanted cum to be sliding out of my cunt, and getting me messy. With no panties to protect me, there was no way this was going to be anything other than a disaster zone under my dress, a position he loved putting me in. And I knew how to handle it, just try to ignore it, and if I drip cum on the floor, it isn’t my fault. He wouldn’t let me clean up anyway, so with nipples so hard and painful, with cum already sliding out of my cunt all over my crotch and stockings, I went back inside.

I felt so slutty, so horny, so sexy that despite just being fucked, I wanted more. And my secret messiness just ramped up my slutty feelings even more. We’ve done this a lot, and it still feels so filthy, so slutty, and I absolutely love it.

People started drifting off quite quickly after midnight, but my husband made us stay later than that, made my messy cunt the focus of my attention for a good 45 minutes.

The walk home is only about five minutes, but my nipples, which had very slightly defrosted inside the village hall, were back rock hard and painful again, almost feeling like they were about to explode. I was almost crying when I got in, they were so painful.

He took me into the kitchen, removed the dress, and then bent me over the worktop, lubed up my ass and ploughed in, holding my hips to give him a strong anal penetration. As my nipples slowly started to defrost without touching anything, my tits were wildly swinging from his powerful strokes. It felt more submission sodomy than something I was about to cum from, and indeed, I felt him growing and ultimately start to throb.

But again, he pulled nearly all the way out, spurting into my asshole with only his glans inside my pucker. And then, without letting me cum again, he stood back and admired his handywork, admired the mess he’d created round my cunt, on my stockings and then as a little cum slid back out of my asshole.

I felt like a complete slut with so much cum already slid out of me and glistening in the light. Once he had inspected my cunt and ass over and over, he went and got the camera to document just how messy I was. For some reason, he really loved it. I’ve become used to it over the years, so I enjoy it immensely too.

Once his camera work was done, he took me upstairs to bed, restrained me by wrists over my head and by ankles to the foot of the bed, and then kissing me, he told me to sleep, him wanting me to start the new year as a cummy mess, and only then did he start sucking on my still cold nipples, the warmth of another human warming them up in a way nothing else would.

His mouth soothed them, and there was no twisting or nibbling, just gentle warming sucks and tongue flicks. Oh, it felt so good for them not to be in pain.

And then I did sleep, until I was awoken with him manoeuvring me into position for my morning sodomy session, having unlocked me. He hadn’t cleaned me up at all, just ploughing into my lubed ass for nearly an hour, before cumming, you guessed it, just inside my asshole. More cum to slide out.

Once he had finished (and I hadn’t cum, obviously), he rolled me back over again and re-restrained me, leaving me to sleep again, but with a fresh dose of cum to slide out of my ass.

Once I awoke again, Anna was there, there to clean me up, with her tongue. My husband had insisted every single drop of cum was to go down Anna’s or my throat (transferred via cum kiss), and if she made me cum, so be it. I knew she’d try. The twist I wasn’t expecting was that he insisted on masturbating Anna’s beautiful moist cunt all the time she was licking, and he would make her cum too, obviously.

Was a great slutty start to the New Year! Setting the tone. Setting the pace.

The Waifs and Strays Club (Part Four)

10 January 2026 / / 2 Comments

Nikki, a woman who we had seen fuck a number of times, a woman who my husband had longed to fuck for years, was finally about to be impaled by his rock-hard cock. He was about to make her a very rare thing, a woman who has taken his cock in her ass before her cunt.

She was still fairly broken from her fucking machine orgasms, so him placing a cushion under her waist meant she could still be supported whilst he fucked her. She felt lube get squirted onto her asshole and rubbed in by some fingers, the next squirt rubbed in by his glans, and all too soon, he was pressing on her ass pucker. Her asshole had no resistance and accepted his glans straight away, sucking his cock in and allowing him to push in in one fluid movement. She cried out as he completely filled her ass. It really felt like she’d never felt so full, and yet she knew, in a matter of seconds, that plug that was filling her asshole would start fucking it.

She breathed deeply and prepared herself, and in only a few moments, he started slowly withdrawing from her asshole, then forcefully driving back in again, each stroke slightly winding her. She’d seen that monster cock punish my asshole over and over again across the years, and now it was her asshole’s time. And punish it it did. Stretching her, filling her, the rubbing making an orgasm build, not twice but three times, between the first and second him yelling at me that I needed to focus on Sara’s clit. His drive was immaculate, his power good, his grip over her strong. All three of Nikki’s orgasms were exhausting empty cunt orgasms, this first two ignored by him as he ploughed on, the third very shortly followed by him cumming deep in her asshole.

As he leant over her, cock still buried in her asshole, but shrinking, he told her next time, he’d fill her cunt, and she smiled, a sleepy, tired satisfied smile and told him she could hardly wait.

The whole of Christmas Day was like this, orgasm after orgasm, someone taking a fuck from the fucking machine, the men fucking as soon as they had recovered, and lots of cunt licking between women in the meantime. My first orgasm of many came at the hands of the barman in my ass (as I suspected) and Paula working my tits. I was so hyped up I came so hard, and so quickly, that they both carried on and made me cum again.

Tits were aching from all the manhandling, cunts were aching from all the cumming, assholes knew they’d been penetrated over and over, and yet still no one stopped. This time was too precious.

Christmas evening brought about my second session on the fucking machine, and whilst my fuck was being run by the barman, with Sara (mostly) on my tits, my husband said he’d say when to stop the machine and let me off. And he sat watching my ordeal on the sofa, eating snacks and having Ella suck on his cock and licking his balls, making his cock and balls feel really pampered whilst me, his poor wife, was being brutalised by an unrelenting unyielding uncaring machine and a woman who wanted all the women’s tits to feel as achy and mistreated as hers were.

And at the end of the day, the grand finale for my husband was finally getting inside Nikki’s dripping well-used cunt. She knelt on the floor and then my husband pushed her forward, bending her over so her head touched the floor and her ass was left in the air. He parted her feet a bit, bringing her messy cunt into view, and then, after a bit of glans rubbing against her cunt, he pushed his cock in. Grabbing on to her hips for power, he started a nice slow rhythmic fucking. He’d cum a lot, we all had, so she settled in for a long long fuck. He felt good. She’d always admired his cock, and now it was his turn to fuck her cunt. She knew she could have it a lot more over time, but now, it was all for her. She relaxed, as he was holding her up, and with a smile, she just enjoyed the rubbing, enjoyed being filled, then emptied, then filled again. At one point, he pulled out, bent down and spat on her cunt a couple of times, before taking his position again and pushing his glans back into her cunt. The spitting on her cunt felt so demeaning, and yet felt so right. He’d so got her number.

He stayed steadfastly on rhythm, not allowing her orgasm to build. It seemed harsh to her, but she knew when he did make her cum, it would be good. No long fuck, no long build-up has ever gone to waste with him. He pulled her ass cheeks apart as he held her hips, deforming her asshole and allowing him to watch as he fucked. She felt his cock harden even more watching her asshole. He was probably remembering earlier just like she was.

And then, he adjusted position, pushing her hips forwards a bit and making her adjust her upper body on the floor. But now he was perfectly rubbing inside her cunt, tormenting her clit from the inside. Her orgasm started building quickly now, but that relentless slow drive was keeping him far from orgasm. Hers came fast and hard, and he ignored it, carrying on his relentless rhythm, her orgasm seeming irrelevant to him. Far from it in fact, but time after time, he pulled an orgasm out of her. Her cunt got tender and sensitive, she begged him to stop fucking her, but he didn’t. She knew he wouldn’t. She hadn’t used the safeword. It just upped the drama of the situation, upped the feeling in her cunt, upped the hardness of his cock and the power of his drive.

But even he in his well fucked state wasn’t immune to all that rubbing. He got bigger, she started crying out and that just spurred him on even more, trying to hang on a few strokes longer whilst his now sensitive glans rubbed inside her cunt again and again. She yelled for him to cum in her, he knew he wanted to. He did, but fought just a few more strokes, Nikki’s noise suggesting she was close, and eventually, when he did tip her over again, her cunt squeezing his cock did him this time and it squirted cum deep inside her, squirt after squirt, and as Nikki shuddered, paused, shuddered, paused, milking him as much as he was milking her.

And as soon as they had both stopped cumming and he had shrunk out of her cunt, he was replaced by Anna, her hands holding on to Nikki’s hips, her face buried in her cunt, devouring every millimetre of her cunt, every drop of their combined juices. Anna loved the taste of his cum, and to her, it tasted even better if it was mixed with some slut’s orgasm juices. Nikki sure felt like that slut, and it was amazing.

This fuck fest carried on until lunchtime on Boxing Day. My morning non-cumming sodomy was delivered by the barman, whilst Laura’s ex did it on Anna and my husband did it on Ella. My husband thought Anna really needed a submissive sodomy session. She was fretting about something and it calmed her right down, the not cumming calmed her right down, as it always does for me. Ella was intrigued when she saw me get it on Christmas morning, so my husband offered to show her what I felt. And she did feel it, the submissive feelings. Even that one sodomy session without her cumming started to make her more submissive. It was clear she’d want it again.

Paula had another go on the fucking machine, this time far longer than the first. She said she wanted it, and Carla made it happen, bringing Sara to pull on her already aching tits. Seeing poor Paula riding the machine, then getting broken by the machine made Sara want the same, for the machine to do that to her again, and she almost passed out from the stimulation this time. But as soon as she was dragged off it, she was spit roasted, ass and mouth this time by Ella and Nikki wearing strap ons. I’ve never seen Sara so used up, just trying to hang on for her absolute favourite fuck.

We rolled dice to see who got the last orgasm before we finished the fuckfest and decanted to the pub (where Carla and the barman were on duty for the rest of the day) and that was won by me, being finger fucked by Ella. She started off so gentle, so loving, so caring, and then over time, got harsher and more brutal, but I’d cum so much it was hard for her to drag one final orgasm out of me. I think her fingers were tiring, but she did manage it, with me clamping down on her fingers as she triumphantly made me cum.

We may have been waifs and strays, but we were liberally fucked and never for one second felt alone. Now that’s the way to spend Christmas!

The Waifs and Strays Club (Part Three)

6 January 2026 / / 0 Comments

It was starting to get light, and people were starting to rouse. I heard my husband from afar find out if everyone was awake (they were), and then he came over to me, rolled me over, putting a pillow under my waist, and then he began lubing my asshole, explaining to everyone how I have to have a hard sodomy session every single morning to make me submissive, subservient and to keep me happy for the rest of the day. It was a public exposure of my growing submissiveness that I wasn’t quite expecting, but I was at peace. Because it was the truth.

Ella went to put the kettle on as my husband prepared my asshole, with her only just returning as he pushed his cock against my ass pucker, my asshole eagerly sucking him in and with that, his hard strokes began, with his cock getting initially much harder, much girthier and much longer. I needed him to not make me cum. If I cum, I lose the sub head space that I want. So as always, this particular fuck was hard, unforgiving and all about him, and nobody was missing a second of it. And even though I had an audience, it did put me in the head space I wanted. This certainly wouldn’t be the last ass fuck I’d have today, but it was the most important.

And when he came and withdrew, he told them to leave me for a while, because I needed to not cum for a while. My slightly sore messy asshole was upwards, visible and needing some care. It didn’t get it, and I knew, I just knew, my next penetration from a hard cock would be one of the other men in my asshole again. I expected nothing less, no compassion, just building on and emphasising my previous fucks. Whilst my asshole really needed a break, my head didn’t want to give it one.

Carla and Ella made breakfast, whilst Anna sucked the taste of my asshole off my husband’s cock and the other men were having their cocks sucked too by Sara, alternating cocks whilst the other man pulled on her tits.

Paula was loading Nikki onto the fucking machine, pulling the leg straps tight, binding her wrists behind her back, impaling her cunt and asshole, the dildos still sticky from the night before. Ella crouched in front of Nikki and fed her a piece of toast, just as Paula turned the machine on. Three swallowed bites of toast was all she managed before the machine fuck took over, and Ella had to remove the toast and pop it on a plate. Carla stroked Nikki’s hair and groped at her tits, whilst Paula held Nikki in place, Carla encouraging her to fight her orgasms for as long as possible, to extend the machine fuck as long as possible. And Nikki would. For her, this party was about her reclaiming her public fucking mojo, was about her getting herself fucked as she had been denying herself for years, was about her recovering from her ex.

Nikki’s cries started quite quickly. Her mouth got very lude, her language a constant stream of filth, and all too soon, she came, hard. And after she came, Paula didn’t turn the machine off, she turned it up, made the vibrations and movements harder. She gave Nikki absolutely no rest, just ploughed on, Nikki calling her a fucking bitch and chastising her for carrying on, an action that was rewarded with get another increase in speed. Carla’s mauling of her tits got harder in sync with the fucking machine, and they got three more orgasms out of her before they took pity and turned the machine off.

I was just watching, left alone in my submissive state, knowing that I’d cum soon enough. In fact, I was fairly close to cumming just from the visuals of what was done to poor Nikki.

And the next visuals were from Sara, who, having got two cocks hard, proceeded to get a spit roast, her absolute favourite, the barman’s cock in her mouth, Laura’s ex in her cunt, and a bonus dildo buried in her ass. She loved showing everyone her spit roasted slut self, and she was so excited at being triply filled that she came over and over from it without the men getting near cumming. After a while of vigorous fucking, the men signalled to each other and pulled out, changing ends so that the barman’s hard cock coated with her saliva was pounded into her cunt, her cunt juice coating the hard cock of Laura’s ex in her mouth. The hard double ended fucking continued, Sara cumming a couple more times before the barman came as well. The barman had been holding her hips, holding her up whilst they fucked, but as soon as he came, he let go and she slumped on the floor, leaving Laura’s ex looking for somewhere to insert a very hard very excited cock to finish off.

He looked over and saw my ass, still propped up on a pillow, my cheeks slightly parted to reveal some of my husband’s cum round my ass pucker. I smiled, with almost pleading eyes, but heard my husband say to go for it, but I wasn’t ready to cum. I so was ready to cum, but I knew he was right, and I’d lose that submissive feeling I love if he made me cum. So, a quick squirt of lube and Laura’s ex pushed his enormous rock hard cock through my pucker. It was a little rougher than usual because he was way harder and way larger than usual, and whilst his cock felt slightly under-lubed, it was a little uncomfortable, but not painful, and any discomfort was soon forgotten as he started fucking away. Whilst his cock went really deep, really powerfully, his strokes were slow, deliberate, keeping his really excited cock from cumming too soon, prolonging my sodomy. It felt like his cock was stretching my asshole all the time, that long time slow strokes kept him hard, kept me filled.

He must have sensed that I was starting to build up to cum, because he accelerated, slamming hard and fast, and came in no time at all, filling my asshole with his creamy cum well before I got near to that orgasm I wanted so much. He stroked my hair, and told me I’d get to cum soon enough, but as his cock shrank out of my asshole, he left it feeling shockingly empty, a void where once was strength and power. He wiped his glans in my ass crack, adding more cum to it, marking me as the sodomy slut I truly am. The symbology was powerful, and added to my sense of submission.

After having a quick word in Ella’s ear, my husband’s attention turned to Nikki, who he still hadn’t fucked. He’d wanted to for so long, back when we didn’t trade partners, just fucked in front of others. His cock was hard, having just watched my anal pounding, and Nikki still hadn’t recovered from the fucking machine. But seeing his intent, she beckoned him down and took his already hard cock in her mouth, working it with her mouth and a hand, whilst she cupped his balls in her other hand. After not too long, he pulled out and rolled her over onto her front, pulling her waist up and pushing a pillow under her belly. He was going to have her ass first, make her that rarest of women that you got fuck her ass for the first time before fucking her cunt for the first time.

I felt someone part my ass cheeks and start licking down my ass crack, focussing on my ass pucker each time over. I looked over my shoulder to see Ella, on her hands and knees totally focussed on my ass crack. When my crack was cleared of cum, she focussed on my pucker, trying to tunnel the tip of her tongue through it, just managing it before going tiny fucking motions with it. It felt so good, so nice. Ella was great with her tongue.

Once her tongue got tired, she used a tongue and forefinger to stretch open my pucker and inserted a lubed dildo Carla handed to her, pushing it right in with a single movement, then starting to fuck my asshole with it, powered by her hands.

And then, she stopped, left it buried in my asshole and rolled me over, Carla spreading my legs wide and using her tongue on my moist cunt, licking firmly but avoiding my clit. I felt like I’d exploded if she simply flicked once over it, but she didn’t. I sensed my husband’s doing, still keeping me from cumming, yet building me all the time.

When Carla’s tongue tired, Paula took over, with the same frustrating clit-avoiding behaviour. My husband is a bastard some times. And when her tongue tired, my cunt was filled with a dildo like my asshole was, and Sara lowered her cunt to my mouth. I tried avoiding her clit, but someone (not her) viciously twisted my nipples backwards and forwards, with my husband (who was working on Nikki) shouting across to focus on her clit. Subservience at its best, I did what I was told, and got her squirting in my face for my trouble. She tasted so good, and I licked off all I could reach, the rest being left to dry on my face.

Nikki started screaming, which meant my husband had her where he wanted her too.

« Older posts

© 2026 The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends