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A blog to go with the zine GUT FEELINGS. About food and everything else.

Wednesday, 14 May 2014

foodplay and My spit slave - Sarah

Some of you may or may not know about the man who pays Me to spit in his food and set him tasks, and show him (via webcam) how to apply make up. he (I didn't do a capital H at the beginning of that sentence because there are important grammar rules in D/s relationships) has other women that he sees, and pays, for more extreme stuff (the dildos, human ash tray etc).

Here is a photo of him, with his head cropped off to protect his identity.

I asked him to write a little bit about his foodplay fetish for the blog. I would recommend that you don't read the following if you are eating, unless this is your kink too. The first time we met, by the way, was his 50th birthday.

My interest in food play - by 'tanya' the sissy slave.

Mistress Corvidae has instructed me to write about my interest in food play. This is an interest that has come lately (over the last few years) to me and has developed gradually over time as I read about it in various magazines and I can safely say that like all other activities, each person’s interest is unique.

My particular fetish is to have a very attractive and young Mistress humiliate me (preferably in 
public) by ordering my food for me, and her allowing me only to eat or drink food and liquids that have been sampled and approved by her mouth before allowing me to eat or drink anything. 
Couple this with being forced to ask permission to go to the toilet and for me this is heaven. Ideally in private I would be dressed as her sissy maid, serving, obeying and worshipping her and her girlfriends and she/they would spit the food and drink into my mouth or would make me eat from a dog bowl whilst they verbally abused me.

As I have an oral fetish, I have also been used by a Mistress as her ashtray for cigarette ash only, although I have heard of some subs having cigarettes stubbed out on their tongues. Even for me, this seems a step too far and would be a hard limit for me.

I have also had the honour of having all sorts of other objects inserted into my mouth, including 
stiletto heels, toes, feet, fingers, dildoes the toes of shoes and boots, although whether any of these could be considered as food I will leave to the reader.

By way of background, I am a submissive, serving Mistress Corvidae for the last 3 years as her sissy maid. Although there has been no sexual activity between us, She is aware of all my fetishes, kinks and activities, including food play. This includes our visits to restaurants with Her and Her friends (usually after shopping trips to central London) when I have the privilege of paying for Her clothes and other items before enjoying a well earned lunch, usually in a dim sum restaurant.

On these occasions Mistress will send me detailed instructions beforehand on what to wear (including collar, lingerie, perfume, lipstick, mascara), together with when and where to meet. I vividly remember the very first time we did this. It was a hot summer’s day and we went to a large chemists off Ox ford Street. As it was so hot I needed some water and bought a bottle. Mistress commanded me to give Her the bottle and She took a drink from it and spat it back into the bottle for me to drink.

After completing our shopping, during which time Mistress Corvidae commanded me to buy some lingerie, we arrived at the restaurant. Mistress Corvidae ordered some delicious dim sum for the three of us and whilst we were waiting for the food to arrive She ordered me to take my lingerie into the toilet and to put in on, which I duly did.

The first course arrived shortly after and Mistress looked me in the eye and bit into some of the food and chewed it. She then took it out of her mouth and placed it onto my plate, commanding me to eat it. I was very nervous as this was the first time I had participated in food play in public, but fortunately the restaurant was not very busy and no staff or customers could see what was going on.

The drinks arrived and Mistress Corvidae took a drink and let the contents fall into my glass. For me being able to eat and drink anything that had been in Mistress’s mouth was nectar, although not in a sexual way. In my opinion, this activity is the supreme act of public submissiveness and in the right context can form part of foreplay if both parties are willing participants. 

I have seen films where food is “abused” i.e. smeared over sexual organs or other parts of the body and sometimes licked off, but I like to think my activities are a little bit more refined than that and, of course, possible in public. We have done this a number of times and one time there happened to be an older man sitting at the table next to us watching what was going on. I dread to think what was going through his mind whilst he was watching us!

I hope this has given readers some insight into my fetish and I look forward to being able to serve Mistress Corvidae in this way soon.

Wednesday, 2 April 2014

National Poetry Month

April is National Poetry month. You don't need me to fill this blog post up with my own clumsy words, just watch these videos of people who have mastered putting words together in beautiful ways. 

This final poem is something I think lots of people should read or watch before they speak poetry in public.

Saturday, 22 March 2014

Happy Fragrance Day - Sarah.

It was international fragrance day yesterday. It was also my 29th birthday so I spent the day watching the final episodes of Bron/Broen, giving myself tarot readings, eating buttery shrimps and tidying up. That's my, valid, excuse for this being a day late.

Here is my list of people, places and events and the perfumes that smell like them. 
  • The end of August. Trying to squeeze all the joy out of Summer before you have to go back to school and picking blackberries in the hot afternoon sun, juice running down your fingers. That sweet metallic pop in your mouth as you bite in - Jo Malone Wild Fig and Cassis.
  • Being 20 years old, living in a bedsit room with your best female friend and being infatued with your best male friend whose chest you fall asleep on almost every night - Joop.
  • Scandinavian cake shops - Kenzo Jungle L'elephant.
  • Grinding black pepper onto an empty white plate for no good reason - Marc Jacobs Bang.
  • That man you went on a couple of dates with who looked like a cross between Robert Redford and Paul Newman and smelled so good you could forgive how boring he was and bad at kissing just for the chance to push your nose into his neck. And when you asked what cologne he was wearing he point blank denied that he was wearing any and insisted he smelled that way from days spent making furniture - Tauer 02 L'air du desert Marocain.
  • Briny green olives fresh from your local deli - Aramis Calligraphy Rose.
  • Going to Colombia road flower market just before 3pm to get discount bunches of Stargazer lillies to fill your windowless room with before the 6ft 6 German you're dating comes over and soaks your sheets in his sweat then moans at you for eating cake without a plate in your own bed - Penhlaigons Lily & Spice.
  • Thin women with freckled faces and arms who have soft soothing voices and wonky teeth, who wear cashmere jumpers that fall off their shoulders to reveal perfect collarbones, who only cry when they're listening to records - Body Shop White Musk.
  • Dominatrixes - Molinard Habanita.
  • Being 6 years old and barefoot and barechested as you walk around your Granny's vegetable garden at the beginning of June touching and sniffing and pulling at and tasting everything you come into contact with. Making the girl who lives next door eat frogspawn. Laughing adults washing off your dirt with the garden hose - Hermes Jardin Sur Le Nil
  • Being a little older, and in that same garden eating sun warmed tomatoes straight off the vine. Getting goosebumps as your teeth pierce through their skin - Nina Ricci Les Belles De Ricci Liberty Fizz.
  • Femme Fatales and men with Cary Grant hair in the kind of bars that don't exist except for in movies, smoking pipes and fat cigars and making double entendres - Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille.
  • Going on holiday to a beautiful city with a boyfriend you've hated for longer than you've loved and wishing you were walking around the Sagrada Familia alone - L'occitane cherry blossom.
  • Spending all night sitting around the Strummerville campfire with your friends at Glastonbury. Dirty black hoodie on, blanket round your shoulders, a can of red stripe in your hand, best friend gurning on your lap and smoke in your eyes as the sun comes up. - Naomi goodsir Bois D'Ascese.
  • New cars and car showrooms - Bottega Veneta
  • Being 16 and in film class and the girl next to you leaning over during your tutors talk about how the moon landings were faked to tell you that you always smell like "a crystal shop" - Lush Karma.
  • Root beer, play doh, ferries from Dover to Calais and West London in the early noughties. - Dior Hypnotic Poison.
  • West London now - Tom Ford Black Orchid.
  • Being in LA in the middle of the Summer with Sophie, in the passenger seat of the Toyota Prius with Tom Pretty playing loudly on the stereo, singing along loudly, on the way to anywhere - West Third Brand Marche De Tabac. 
  • Christmas eve day, building a gingerbread house with your stoned mum that ends up looking like some very impressive outsider art - Alkemia Oils gingembre eve.
  • Late Christmas eve. Breathing in the smell of your superior-cos-it's-real tree and it's pine needles, drinking Glögg with your fat little belly full of cheese and crackers while you watch The Snowman. Imagining you could be flying over that forest when that little kid sings about walking through the air- The Vagabond Prince Enchanted Forest.
  • Being on holiday. Rubbing coconut scented sun screen into your hairless brown legs. Laying on the beach with your nipples out. Floating on the sea and letting the waves wash you up on to the beach. Drinking cocktails in the evening with your best friend in white cotton dresses and sandals. - James Heeley Coccobello.
  • Vincent Van Gogh's paintings of Haystacks - Annick Goutal Sables.