This one guy sometimes sort of… pats me on the arse. Really gently. Just with fingertips, a very light stroke-slash-pat. It’s so tentative and soft. As if he’s brushing his hand over my bum to test whether it’s actually OK to touch me – the way a shy cat might prod your thigh with a single, nervous paw to test out whether yours is a safe lap to settle down on. In a way I love it, because I think what we’re seeing here is an adorable nerd with very little experience of casual intimacy discovering the gold-plated joy that comes when you realise you’re allowed to touch someone’s arse just because you fancy it. But it also massively does my head in, because I love having my bum grabbed and slapped and manhandled, but someone brushing delicately over it is frustrating: like giving a starving girl two Pringles and then running away. Our dynamic is not one which lends itself easily to switching – somehow I always find myself in charge. So I’ve been pondering how to go about getting spanked, but in a dominant way. The ultimate topping from the bottom. I think I have it.
Next time he touches my arse with soft fingers and tentative gentleness, I’m gonna tell him:
I won’t spray him with the water pistol or hit him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper like I usually have to, but I’ll wag my finger at him and order: “Do it again… properly.”
He will look at me slightly startled and confused, at which point I’ll bend over the kitchen counter, or the sofa, or the table in the garden of Wetherspoons depending on where we are. Then I’ll point my jeans-or-yoga-clad arse in his direction, and say “do it again. But better this time.”
He’ll give my arse a bit more of a smack, but still hold back like he’s scared it might hurt me.
I’ll look at him with such intense scorn that he’ll feel like he’s just pissed himself in Maths class and issue further instructions:
“You can do better than that, you pathetic little fuck. Put your fucking back into it.”
And he’ll whack me again, harder. Kinda nervous because I called him pathetic, but excited because he’s easy to please. Besides, he fucking loves it when I call him pathetic.
I give him my verdict: “OK listen up, bitch. On a scale from 1-10 where one is ‘I can only just feel it’ and ten is ‘I’m reaching the limit when it comes to my pain tolerance’, that was hovering somewhere around a five. If your next one isn’t at least an eight, I won’t touch your cock again until tomorrow.”
Chastened by the threat, he smacks me one more time. And this time, he really does go for it. Thwacking me so hard on the arse that my spine throbs with aftershocks which also thud beautifully through my cunt.
What a good boy!
Next up, I’ll test him a little with different numbers, training him to hit me with varying strength and intensity:
“Gimme two fours in a row.”
“Now try a seven.”
“Five lots of three.”
“Now one more ten, hard as you can.”
Once he’s delivered that ten-strength smack, I should probably do a consent check-in. That is how seriously I take my responsibilities when topping from the bottom. I check with the man who is thwacking me on the arse if he’s happy to continue to do it.
He’s fine with it. By which I mean he says ‘yes’ and adjusts the erection he’s sporting.
So I tell him “OK, we’ve nailed strength. Now let’s talk target practice.”
I shift ever so slightly to one side, demonstrating that he should try to land his palm on my other butt-cheek – to even the sensations out a bit. The first stroke lands awkwardly and he yelps out a panicked “sorry!”
I bite back the nurturing ’don’t worry, that’s OK,’ response that I would instinctively give and instead snap back with: “So you fucking should be.”
Then I grin, because I’m trying to be dominant here, and it’s incredibly hard to take oneself seriously when domming. Honestly, I’ve no idea how dominant guys manage to keep a straight face when they’re ruining me. Huge respect to you all, please keep up the miraculous work.
Anyway. I get this tentative, subby guy to test out his aim with some target practice, telling him ‘5, left cheek’ and ‘7, right’. And then ‘three 6’s on each’ as my cunt starts soaking through my knickers.
At that point, there’s only one more thing he needs to master before I allow him to fuck me.
“Three fives in the centre, now, there’s a good boy.”
And I swear to god those firm, steady, beautifully-targeted thwacks resonate through my entire vulva and pound into the depths of my cunt.
Finally, training complete, I yank down my jeans, whatever knickers I’m wearing and the very last shred of my dominant resolve, then tell him:
“Get your fucking dick in me. Immediately.”
Topping from the bottom: can I interest you in a meta-blog about this blog?
In terms of tone/framing, ‘topping from the bottom’ might be the weirdest post I’ve ever written. It’s essentially pre-emptive fan-fiction about a real life person in which I imagine something I’d like to do and how it might play out. It’s almost certainly going to be weird for the dude who features in it, but I hope he won’t mind too much. Although I rarely write posts from this perspective, this perspective does fairly accurately reflect the way I daydream.
When I’m horny I often conjure scenes featuring people I already know – the better I know them, the easier it is to ponder what I might do to/with them. I wrote a bit about this a while ago: lust that grows slowly. One of the reasons I don’t do much casual sex is because my lust tends to be responsive, which means I need to know someone fairly well before I can start planning scenes/fucks/filthy things to say while we’re banging. Back when I was dating the bracelet game guy first time around, it took me a few months of solid fucking and chat before I could start daydreaming about hot things that ran vaguely in the direction of his kinks/our dynamic, but once I started they suddenly poured forth (you can see a few of those fantasies here, if you like. They’re pretty awesome). Because of this, I often feel like I’m letting newer partners down by not being creative enough in our fucks. The fabulous, confident guy who I love hanging out with often asks me what Sex Things I want to do, and I always wish I had more expansive answers, but the fact is I don’t know him well enough yet to dream about scenes and come up with ideas as in the post above. I’ll get there, obviously, it just takes time.
The thing about having these pre-emptive fantasies, though, is that publication effectively kills the idea. The reason I rarely write these down to share with you is that having written it, if I do try to do some topping from the bottom with this guy, he’ll either get nervous that he can’t remember the exact script or he’ll laugh and go “fuck you! You’ve already written the blog post about this, I’m not gonna DANCE TO YOUR TUNE!”. I guess when you think about it, writing the exact script for a scene is the most explicit topping from the bottom I could ever do.
My ex boyfriend very rarely read my blog, so back then I didn’t have these kinds of worries. Of the guys I’m currently seeing on a regular basis, two were blog readers before I met them, and one has become a reader since we met. This is extremely flattering, because it’s a thrill to shag men who are interested in my work, but it does also mean that I overthink everything I write, wondering how it’s going to land not just with the standard audience (regular readers, occasional readers, site sponsors and Google searchbots [this one’s about topping from the bottom, bots! Rank me rank me!]) but also with two types of real-life men: those who feature in the post who might wonder why I’m writing about them spanking me before they’ve ever spanked me, as well as the men who do not feature, who might think ‘hey! Fucking hell GOTN! Why don’t you write pre-emptive fan-fic about ME!?’
It’s a bit of a balancing act. And in the case of this post I had two options:
- Write it like fiction. I did that for ‘the four times I make you come‘, and that worked pretty neatly. I didn’t think it worked for ‘topping from the bottom’ though because I wanted frame it with the backstory about how gently this particular guy touches my arse.
- Write ‘topping from the bottom’ exactly as I wanted to, then append a giant pile of waffle to the end of it to cover off how weird I know it is, combined with excuses to the other guys as to why I haven’t written this kind of thing about them yet.
Tl;dr – this is sometimes how I think about the men I fuck. I ponder them. I muse upon their tastes and proclivities. And then I come up with ideas for things to do that touch on their desires, but with added layers of my own lust as well. This idea about topping from the bottom (now that I’ve told you I’m shoehorning that phrase in for Google, I can get away with doing it to excess – topping from the bottom! Keyword target achieved!), were I to do it, would either work beautifully and get this guy horny or crash-and-burn in hilarious ways as reality met fantasy and the whole thing descended into giggles. I thought for this fantasy the latter was more likely, so figured I’d sacrifice the opportunity to actually do it for the chance to write it instead. It may be more fun in the mind, to be honest: in pre-emptive fan-fic, everyone knows their lines.
[shameless plug] If you want to find out more about what it’s like to fuck a sex blogger, come join me on Patreon where I’ll soon be interviewing one of the lovely men who is kind enough to put up with my horny, overthinking bullshit. Submit your questions here.[/shameless plug]