Friday, 25 of July of 2014

POTW: Wet Bed, Wetter Panties

Penny has had an accident, soaking her bed and her little, white, cotton panties.


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Better and Better

After three years, I sort of assumed that my relationship with Manny was all that it was ever going to be: pleasant and docile. We spent our weekdays being parents and a family: helping with homework, going on play dates, having “I’m almost too tired to move, but need to get off in order to go to sleep” sex the moment the kids passed out. Thursday nights were for gaming. Then on Fridays we would work, then maybe go catch a movie in the evenings. He worked long hours on Saturdays, so if I wanted to go out, I went with other friends. Sundays were reserved for daytime outings or just lying in bed telling each other how much we loved each other all day and maybe doing something mildly sexually adventurous, like me putting him in bondage or me wearing a collar. It was pleasant, if predictable. Most of my exciting sexual encounters were with clients or on camera.

I was trying to adjust…and failing.

At first, he was so innocent that anything dirty at all was titillating. I could just tie his hands behind his back or he could call me a slut and it felt soooo subversive. And, don’t get me wrong: it was good. Like, the best sex I’ve ever had, on or off camera. He has amazing endurance and a super strong desire to please. All men say that they love eating pussy and most of them do to some degree, but not like Manny. He’s like a man starved and he can’t lick my clit fast enough. It’s awesome!

However, as the novelty wore off with him, the thrill wore off for me. He still enjoyed himself and I did, too, but that spark in his eye was gone. This wasn’t WRONG anymore. It was just the way we had sex. I like taboos and, for me, that doesn’t mean bedroom bondage and the occasional slap on the ass. It means crossdressing, diapers, watersports, humiliation, breast smothering, prolonged impact play, incest role play, CATHARSIS. It means becoming so immersed in the kink, in the sex, that you find everything else just melting away, the kind of experience where I find it impossible to be thinking of my grocery list or the laundry. I want my partner and I to exist purely as a vessel for pleasure and pain.

Over the past weeks, months, I feel that Manny and I have gotten there. But it isn’t moving back, it’s moving forward.

Diapers are figuring into our sex life for the first time, as are other fetish items. A commenter on my blog asked if Manny was being more dominant or simply aggressive and eager. In the past, he’s certainly been more dominant, but recently I think he’s been more “simply aggressive and eager” and I like it! (Not that I want to over-analyze or waste time applying labels, but this feels like a telling way to differentiate. It’s more like play now.)

For example, he and I were engaging in some rape role play the other day and he was holding me down and demanded, “Who do you belong to?” Usually I would meekly answer, “You,” and continue struggling. In the past, he did NOT like being challenged. He was in control and I could bend to his will or he would leave. He didn’t want to dominate someone who wasn’t submissive. However, this time I growled, “A son of a bitch!” and spit in his face. Instead of getting soft and storming off, he wiped the spit from his face and smeared it over mine, adding a little of his own. Then he began fucking me so hard that it hurt. “Again, who do you belong to?” I gave him a sarcastic little smile and answered, “I just said: you.” He let it go that time.

Beyond that, there have been too many other fun sexual encounters to list. My favorite standout was when he diapered me in the middle of one night.

We were sleeping and I had woken up to go to the bathroom. I had to climb over him, like I always do, and, as I did, he asked where I was going.

“I need to pee?”

He was clearly still more than half asleep. “Do you want me to diaper you?”


“Okay.” He got up and stumbled over to the closet and pulled out a diaper. It was clear that he had misheard me, but I couldn’t bring myself to correct him. Of course I wanted him to. Dear god, I wanted him to. But I need to know that HE wants to. Indulging in diaper play with someone who isn’t into it is just the worst.

He wandered back to bed and pulled me toward him, adjusting me on my back and lifting my hips. One of my favorite things about Manny is that he’s large enough to throw me around when he wants to. I am, after all, a big, strapping girl, and not everyone can do that.

He taped me up, then lied down and pulled me close to him, my diaper nestling against his hardening cock. I thought that I would be too excited to sleep, but it was just so comforting and intimate, and he was so warm and close. We drifted off before too long, cuddled against each other, my diaper crinkling as his erection ebbed and flowed against it.

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POTW: Diaper Playroom

Penny is changing her own cloth diaper in her playroom. Hopefully she doesn’t make a mess!


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POTW: AB Girl in Bondage

Sucking her thumb and dressed like a baby girl, Penny is bound and perched on her rocking horse.


The Doors of Perception Lead to the Nursery

Last Sunday, Manny and I decided to enjoy my birthday present from Sam. It went in a weird direction, not in that it was bad, but in that I totally didn’t see it coming.

Usually when we start to feel normal again, I use my pacifier and Manny just sort of hangs out, but since we had candy flipped this time, Manny was coming down a little harder, so he asked if he could use the pacifier. I’m a super nice, selfless girlfriend (who loves seeing him with a pacifier in his mouth whenever possible), so I said yes.

We started feeling frisky again and he laid me back on our bed, opened my legs, and entered me. He took the pacifier out of his mouth and pushed it into mine and started saying the dirtiest things, pulling on the pacifier ring, asking me if I liked Daddy’s cock.

He started getting really excited and asked if we had any more diapers. I reminded him that he couldn’t fuck me if I was in a diaper, but he kept asking, so I told him where they were.

I usually don’t keep any in the house, but I had brought some home for our earlier experimentation, but since we only used one, there were still three or four left over in a box in my closet. He got them out and spread them out on the bed. It was so crinkly and soft. He did something that I’d been wanting to do for a long time. He took one of the diapers and stretched it over my chest, wrapping my full breasts in it. It felt wonderful.

As he fucked me in the pile of diapers, he reached down and took the pacifier out of my mouth and put it in his own, asking, “Do you like this, Mommy?”

I came so damn hard.

After we finished, I went into the bathroom to get cleaned up. When I came out, Manny had spread a blanket on the floor and was lying there in his robot boxers, with the pacifier in his mouth. He smiled. “Hi, Mommy.”

I looked at him for a moment. He looked so adorable and comfortable, sprawled out, staring up at the ceiling, his content little grin only enhanced by the pacifier.

“What do you like about age play?”

He pulled the pacifier out of his mouth and looked at me, his face open, honest, and friendly. “Pretending to be a kid, then getting laid? What’s not to like?”

He beckoned and I went and lied next to him. We cuddled as we came down.

Manny keeps mentioning diapers, too. I’ve always assumed that if I wanted to get a guy into diapers, I should start off wearing them myself, that it would be easier for them to see me in them than to actually wear them, but I’m beginning to wonder if Manny wouldn’t be more comfortable in a diaper himself. I’ve never even considered it, since he always seems so dominant to me, but…

I’m still sorting this all out in my head. It’s clear that he enjoyed this weird, switchy encounter, and I certainly did, too, but I don’t want to push us to do something that we’ll regret–and I certainly don’t want to scare him off. For now, I’ll continue letting him propose what we do, and just go along with it. I rather thought that he wouldn’t suggest that we every do anything together again, but here we are. It still feels surreal.


Age Playing with Myself

Last weekend, I went to a private age play party for the first time in years. The atmosphere was very different from the hosted, public parties that I’ve been attending or hosting and it made me realize a few things about my current relationship to age play–and that I don’t want to undo these positive changes, though I do want to keep developing them.

The party was lovely. It was a birthday party, and it was wildly different from the one age play birthday party I had been to in the past. For one thing, the birthday girl invited her real life friends, whether or not they were age players. At the other birthday party I went to, it was the opposite: age players were invited, whether or not they were real life friends. Also, the birthday girl at this party showed more maturity, not relying on her Daddy to initiate activities. I may be misinterpreting her or even projecting, but I feel like the people I know who age play older ages do so more to recapture their youth than to be dependent on another person.

First of all, it’s less sexual, more removed from diapers. Diapers have become, if possible, even more sexual for me. The feeling is now something I experience only in a sexual context. I used to wear often with my ex-husband and sometimes we would have sex, sometimes we would not. Now I only wear for porn or live sessions.

I would not have expected to enjoy a less sexual version of age play, but it has been fun, but I admit that it’s more like what I would call being young at heart than actual age play. I’ve also realized that most of my sexual age play fix comes from incest role play with my partners. We wouldn’t call it age play, but that is, indeed, what it is.

It’s also more, I suppose, therapeutic, though definitely not therapy. It helps me to be happy and enjoy life on a more fundamental, rudimentary level, but it doesn’t resolve any issues or give me closure.

That said, it isn’t escapism, but a different version of it. The best way I can think to describe it is in relation to gaming. Most of the people I game with do so as a form of escapism. They wish that the world was different, that they were different, and they game to try to temporarily forget or ignore their humdrum lives, or add a little excitement and entertainment. I more game to blow off steam. My life is so full of stuff that sometimes I just wish that I could destroy it, start shit, and wreak havoc. (Yes, this means that a lot of people don’t enjoy gaming with me. If the game is lagging too much, I will randomly kill someone. Just watch me.) I may not be choosing my words well, but the best way that I can describe it is to say that I’m age playing less as a form of escapism and more as a release. It has become a more accessible head space and the age play activities I engage in occur more often in my life.

For example, my time on has become an age play platform for me, especially when Ariel gave us all our team sweatshirts. I raced home to show Manny. It was almost like telling my dad that I had made varsity–something I never got to do in high school, as I went to four schools in three years. I can’t stress how much I love that sweatshirt, btw. I’ve worn it pretty much since I got it until this morning, when I finally, reluctantly put it in the washing machine.

My engagement ring, as it were, is also a sort of age play item. Manny, who was a student at the time, couldn’t afford a diamond ring, so he made one out of a pipe cleaner and a wooden, heart-shaped bead. After a few weeks, the pipe cleaner was hurting my finger something fierce, so I made a friendship bracelet instead and put the bead on there. I’ve actually really enjoyed it. It isn’t a tattoo, so it can ultimately be removed, but it is tied on. It’s the closest I’ve come to making a decision about my body purely for myself. I remember reading something Julie Simone posted on Instagram about how each tattoo and piercing she gets is a way of reclaiming her body from the porn industry. I’m not quite ready to take those steps, but I do enjoy fucking up shots with my friendship bracelet–and I hope that, on some level, you enjoy seeing it.

This new version of age play has also been more open. I used to be extremely ashamed of telling people that I was into it. People would always congratulate me on being so open, but I felt it was unwarranted. I was actually quite shy. Recently, though, with this style of age play, that has changed.

As I mentioned, I’m engaged. However, before we moved forward with our wedding plans, Manny decided to do something for me that was so sweet and romantic, I still can’t believe it. I’ve had a friend for a very long time. It’s always been a little one-sided, but that was okay, because she was older than I was and, while she’s quite outgoing, I’m pretty shy. However, over the years, she’s gotten to be more demonstrative, and helped me out a number of times when I really needed it. And I admire her greatly and always have. I tend to copy her a lot, too. We have a joke that anything she does, I copy three to six months later, and I do seem to be following in her footsteps.

I’ve always collected mother figures, starting when I was just a child. My own mother was sorely lacking. At best, she thought of me as a project. At worst, she thought of me as something foul to be eradicated from her life. So friends’ mothers, teachers, co-workers, etc. became my new moms. I never told them–I was too embarrassed–but often when I felt down I would silently remind myself that, while my own mom was a horrible person who could never mentor or probably even love me, I had many moms, women who were proud of me. One of the happiest moments I had as a teenager was when my boyfriend’s mother told me that I was too good for her son. And Jesus Christ is that pathetic. I mean, I was in competition with a lover for the affection of his MOM. (He was actually kind of a loser, so, yes, I was winning. But then again I was dating a loser. … I need to stop analyzing this. I’m getting dizzy.)

Anyway, Manny took this friend and her husband out to dinner to ask for their blessing of our marriage. They asked him a ton of questions, but he got it! It meant the world to me that she took it seriously. She even made a point of wearing a pearl necklace so as to more look the part. After, I wrote her a Facebook message telling her how grateful I was for her influence on my life, her guidance; I told her how much her approval meant to me. She wrote back, including:

“I love you and will always be here for you–especially when you need a mother figure.”

This is the closest I’ve come to having an age play mom and it feels so good. And the experience of getting married this time has been much better than before, when I involved my biological mother. Now I just have to not screw it up.

The experience of being with Manny is different, too. In the aftermath of our age play fiasco, I’ve had a number of clients and fans tell me not to be with him–and, hey, maybe you guys are right. I was pretty sure about Luke, too, and look what happened there. Yikes. However, Manny and I have a lot of nurturing discussions as an adult. Luke and I never really talked about my past and he was reticent about his own. With Manny, everything is on the table. Luke never believed that I could do anything–he actually told me not to bother publishing my book, that no one would buy it. (He was wrong, by the way. It’s done quite well.) Manny believes that I can do anything and tries to encourage me. He actually teaches me grappling moves and helps me practice, which is another way that (and!) have been part of my developing relationship to age play.

And there are other age play activities I enjoy as well, including Nerf gun battles (Manny and I have gotten really into them!), watching scary movies and kids’ movies that I wasn’t allowed to see as a child or that have special nostalgic value (“Ghostbusters” in the park!), letting Manny brush my hair, and going to lunch or dinner at Fenton’s.

No, I will never have the same relationship to age play that I did when I was dating a diaper fetishist, but I’m missing out on what I have now, something more real, something that is inclusive rather than exclusive. And I don’t want to loose that. I want to cherish it, and I do.

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POTW: Milky Kitten

Penny is dressed like a little kitty in a diaper, trying to drink the milk that her Daddy gave her.


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Penny on the Internet

I’m of the opinion that everyone–with the exception of my ex-husband–should follow all my online presences at all time, but if you only want to follow me in one or two places, I figured I would let you guys know what’s where and how I operate online. Sites are mentioned in no particular order.

Facebook I use Facebook for personal stuff, but only on my personal account. My professional one is hooked up to my Twitter and I only log in once a year or so to delete all the “Hey Guuuuuurl” messages and add a few pictures that you could easily see more explicit versions of somewhere else. I’ve seen too many people put a lot of effort into their professional Facebook accounts just to get them censored and deleted. Waste of time–and it weirds me out when guys are trying to sex chat me up and their profile picture is of them holding their six-month-old daughter. *shudder* <- Happens way more often than you might realize.

Instagram I love Instagram! Even though they kicked me off and I couldn’t get back on until Kylie sent me an old new phone! So you can all thank Kylie for sexy, suggestive pictures of me and shots of my food and drinks–and shoes. I’m an unapologetic food and drink pornographer. I never, ever Kik or Snap Chat anyone who asks me to on Instagram. Why on earth would I turn away from my sexy, hard boyfriend who will actually fuck me to chat with someone in Des Moines? But keep on trying, chatters! I’m sure the next person you hit up will be all over it! (Not really, but they don’t listen anyway.)

Google+ I’m working on fleshing out my Google+, especially since a friend told me how important it could be for my career. Thus far it’s pretty sparse, but look to see me more active here in the coming months!

FetLife The reason to follow me on FetLife is to keep abreast of the kinky events that I’m going to or hosting. I also put my better, sexier, kinkier pictures here, so you can find them and they don’t get buried under other stuff, like they might on Instagram or Twitter.

MySpace I still get fairly regular emails telling me that someone has added me on MySpace. … Haven’t logged into the thing in years. … Can’t remember my password or even my user name. … That is all.

YouTube My next big project is working on my YouTube. I already have a number of videos posted here, but I want to start posting more regularly, mostly vlogs and video previews. Stay tuned!

Twitter Twitter is definitely my most-used Social Media platform. Sam, my PA, uses it, too, so sometimes you may be responding to something that he has said. I’ve considered signing my personally created Tweets, sort of like the first lady does, but…then I don’t. I might start, though, especially because Sam has a habit of posting unflattering pics of me and using my Twitter to flirt with the ladies. However, I LOVE Twitter. I just wish that I could get it to sync back up with my Instagram. (There is a bug. Believe me, better techies than you have tried to talk me through it and I’m not interested in trying again.)

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Sam’s First Session

All entries presented as actual accounts are for entertainment purposes only and should not be interpreted as real life occurrences.

So Sam, my PA, just did his first session as my stunt cock for a live session with a little sissy who wanted the experience of servicing a man. He was extremely nervous, but did an amazing job and I hope that we get to do another double soon. He kept telling me that he might not be able to get hard, but it wasn’t a problem at all and Mommy is very proud of her little helper.

It was a session with a client I’ve seen before. I find that new clients who say that they want to bring a guy into things don’t come through. If it’s something that the client really, really wants to do, he’s usually a little shy about it and doesn’t bring it up right away. This one was young, too–only 24. I like that I’m getting to the age that a lot of my clients are my age or younger. I feel like, as I get older, the men I see are closer to my age. When I was 20, I almost only saw guys in their ’60s and even ’70s. Now I see more men in their ’20s-’40s.

At any rate, his main kink was feminization, with an emphasis on shaving. He’s only really mentioned it as a practical thing, but I think it’s specifically a kink. I’ve done some shaving and it’s been interesting, but this guy–and his reaction to it–has been my favorite by far. I was shaving his legs and pubic zone, which takes forever, even with an electric razor to help things along. However, right when it was getting to be a little boring, he started jerking off.

He was trying to be subtle about it at first, only doing it when I was shaving the back of him, and instead of being upset, I was teasing him about it, and he got a little bolder. It’s no real secret that I like watching men masturbate and, because of what I was doing, I was on eye-level with his crotch. And having a guy jerk off in my face while I was shaving his legs was, for some reason, HOT AS HELL. A big part of it was definitely that he was getting so into it.

After he was all smooth, I got him feminized in panties, stockings, heels, hair, bra, breastforms, slip, and light makeup. He wanted to worship my ass and I let him do it a little, but Sam was waiting downstairs and I didn’t want to choose between wasting the whole time and asking Sam to stay late. So, I put a pair of panties over his head and lead him down into the dungeon, where Sam was waiting on a leather couch. I had my client lift up his slip to reveal Sam’s tribute sticking out of the satin panties, stripper-style. I thought it was a nice little touch.

Apparently the blowjob was more enjoyable for me than for Sam, but my client took a plunge and did something that he’s been fantasizing about, but also has a lot of issues over. Before the session, like so many sissies, he went out of his way to convince me that he’s not gay–and I find that most guys who are coming to me for any sort of sexual play usually aren’t, but they still like to make it clear. He was also very light with the blowjob, but took Sam’s hard cock in his mouth and sucked like a good little whore.

I still had to help, though. I smothered Sam with my breasts and made the client gag on his cock and lick his balls. Then I sucked Sam until he came in my mouth, which is another reason I think Sam was perfect for the job. With just some male escort, I do not engage sexually, but since Sam and I are buddies, I like to mess around with him and we don’t use condoms–or at least not often. This meant that I could take his load into my mouth, then spit it onto my client’s hard, pantied cock. I think that was my favorite part of the session.

And I came to a realization, as that 24-year-old had my PA’s cock in his mouth and my PA was worshiping my tits and moaning, “Thank you for the blowjob, Mommy!”: I want to change my third Clips4Sale store into an incest fetish store. I really enjoy the role play and easily 90% of the porn that I use involves incest. Even though we don’t have an age play relationship, I call Manny “Daddy” and encourage Sam to call me “Mommy.” Manny and I often engage in sexual brother-sister role play, too.

After that, the session went down the usual route: anal play, breast worship, me masturbating, and verbal humiliation. I came, he came. Everybody came and it was lovely.

Sam definitely earned at least one sexual merit badge!

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POTW: Thumbsucker

Penny is cuddled up to her stuffed animals, sucking her thumb as she looks into your eyes.


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