Limits are something we have spoken about many times. Every time when I think I have reached my limit, we take it just a bit further and I then realize the limit has not been reached.
I have read a lot about bdsm and also seen a lot of images. Most of what I have read and seen appealed to me. I love the sight of a woman bound by rope or a woman cuffed and chained. Seeing a woman on a table or a bed, waiting for whatever would happen to her, excites me too. Clamped nipples or clamped labia – such an erotic sight!
The first time my Husband spurted his cum on my tits and chin, I thought that I had reached a hard limit. The first time was awkward. I had to stop thinking of the ‘mess’ on my body. Once I did, I enjoyed what he did – him using me, ‘soiling’ me with his juices. Will I do piss play? No. Poo play? No, definitely not! that certainly is a hard limit for me. As are kids and animals. No go there!
Another hard limit is cutting and needles or any other kind of ‘mutilation’ of the body. And hereby I do not include the marks that can be left on a body by whipping or flogging. Those are marks I will proudly wear, but I will not have any needles stuck into me and neither will I have cuts made on my body, or cut myself. That is a hard limit for me. I do not judge others who do this, though. Hell, I might be doing things they see as a hard limit. Mutual respect is something I deeply believe in. We each love our D/s relationships the way we want, and no one can tell you that it is right or wrong.
We each decide on our own hard limits… and sometimes discover that a limit is not a limit after all.
(written on 20.08.2011)
© Rebel’s Notes