Sex Chronicles
After fucking him with my strap on.
Toast: It was kind of weird for a minute, because with your short hair, your silhouette looked androgynous.
Me: That's the point.
Toast: Well, I'm fine with it normally, but when you're fucking me in the ass...
Me: That's the point.
Toast: ...Well.

Today Toast pierced my nipples. We’ve talking about a lot of things that we can’t do, or at least can’t do very often. We’ve talked a lot about piercing play, but only ever indulged in it once before, momentarily, to see if it would scar. Since then, it’s been brought up from time to time, but we’ve never taken the plunge.

Toast suffers from bipolar disorder, and will sometimes get pretty sadistic, violent urges. Because of how masochistic and submissive I am, while I know, cerebrally, that I shouldn’t indulge these at all, there’s a part of me that can’t seem to help it. Today, when he looked at me like that, and I knew that he was thinking of doing Terrible Things to me, I tried my best not to indulge him, but I was not very successful.

I should probably preface the rest of this by explaining that I have a collar. This has been something we discussed and used at the beginning of our relationship, and maybe I’ll post more about it later, but when I’m wearing my collar, I’m Toast’s fucktoy. Or pet. The point is that when I wear the collar, I’m his property, and over time, he has trained my and broken me in such that the response when the collar is put on me is practically pavlovian.

Today, when I was napping in his bed naked, he came in and laid down next to me. After a few moments of cuddling and talking, I realized he was half hard, and we began talking about it.

"What’re you thinking about?" is a phrase we each ask the other commonly, so I asked.

"Face fucking you."


He started to twist my nipples, force my hand down on his cock so I was jerking him off. I immediately began to think of all the terrible things I knew he wanted to do to me. All the terrible things I wanted him to do to me. Choking. Cutting. Piercing. Slapping. Hair pulling. A lot more, even, that fall under the realm of “not ever doable.” I thought about how seductively appealing the idea of him turning me into his fucktoy without the collar was. The idea of him throwing me around, forcing me, establishing dominance. Making me his thing. I didn’t say it. I also wanted him to fuck me however he wanted, no safety words. It’s a terrible thought, one that we’ve tried once before with the caveat of “nothing permanent,” but not one that we should ever do again. I didn’t say it.

Instead, I buried my face in his shoulder while he pulled my hair and twisted my nipple. He asked me what I was thinking, getting no answer. He asked me if I liked it. If I wanted more. No answer. This seemed to make him want to get a rise out of me, until he got up and grabbed the needles (sterile, one time use) we had lying around in the hopes of one day using to pierce me.

He told me to tell him if it was too much, but it wasn’t. I wanted it. I wanted so much more. I wanted him to overtake me. To break my spirit. I told him I wanted to be his fucktoy. What I meant was that I wanted him to break me in, but he got up and grabbed my collar, put it on my neck.

I was lying on my back. I relaxed my legs apart, easy access to my vagina, if he were to need it. He took one needle and pressed it against my already sore nipple. I yelped. He started fucking me, slamming into me to distract me as he delicately pushed the needle through my nipple. It hurt at first, sharp and intense. Then the needle was already through, and it felt fine. Then he went to my other nipple and pierced that with a second needle, still pounding into me. This one hurt less, but the pain still went through me. I still had to concentrate on being his fucktoy, on obeying and pleasing and not moving away when I haven’t been told, to be able to take it without flinching.

After a few moments of fucking me, he seemed to grow bored. He tugged my hair, moved me around on the bed, so my head was hanging off of the edge. Then he stood and shoved his cock down my throat, facefucking me until I choked, again and again. Every once in a while he would twist the needles to make it hurt more. Eventually he started shoving his hand in my pussy. I don’t know how many fingers he shoved in, or if he got his whole hand inside. It was a lot. So much. So intense, while I was concentrating all my attention on not choking or gagging. On taking his entire eight a half inches without needing to puke.

Eventually I had to tell him that I would puke if he kept shoving himself so deep down my throat, so he eased off. He kept facefucking me, but not as deep. After a bit, he pulled his cock out and shoved his balls against my face. I sucked, trying to focus, rather than be distracted by him shoving as much of his hand in my vagina as he could. I didn’t always succeed, occasionally pulling off and yelling and moaning, tempted to beg him to stop. I didn’t. He’s my master. Whatever he wants to do to me while my collar is on is up to him. Shortly he came all over my face and mouth, his semen dripping up into my eyes and hair.

Kindly, he told me I could clean off. Gave me a towel. Took my collar off. Took the needles out. Cleaned them up.

Right now I have a bandaid on each nipple. It’s weird. Completely an issue of cleaniness and functionality. But it looks more sexual than just being naked.

Welcome to our TMI.

This is the first post of a blog that will be very, very much too much information. This is going to be me chronicling the sex life of my boyfriend and I. We are into a lot of kinks. I am almost certain that eventually one of them will offend you, so bear that in mind. Also, pictures my or may not be included from time to time, so if you want to browse your feed during work, this is probably not the blog to follow.

That being said, for the purpose of this blog, our names are Castle and Toast. I’m a 24 year old, biologically female, pansexual, submissive genderqueer. He’s a 22 year old cisgendered, heterosexual, switch man. We’ve been together for almost a year, and we like to have a lot of sex.

As I’m just starting this blog, and it’s already a bit intimidating to share all of our personal, sexual escapades, even with strangers, I don’t know how often I’ll update this, or even if it’ll be in chronological order. Sometimes I might go back to older stories, or I might talk about things immediately after they happen. Rest assured, though, that anything I put down on here is true.

Also, feel free to ask anything. If I find it to be too offensive or invasive, I won’t answer, but the point of this blog is primarily invasiveness.