As a teenager her bedroom contained a couple of spiral candles in decorative candlesticks. She told me later that she had
found that the candles were ideal for sticking up her c*nt.
Once I got her to relax about sex when we were married she became utterly shameless. At my suggestion she tried a vibrator but insisted that the first time she used it she was alone in the house. After that anything was possible. Carrots, cucumbers. Her Strapon dildo. The wooden handle of my heavy flogger. A hotel bedpost. A whole collection of vibrators.
At her suggestion, a toilet brush: no, the handle end! Obviously we couldn’t use one that was used, so we needed a special one. It took me ages to find an appropriate one but Sainsbury’s supermarket eventually supplied an ideal one, shiny metal with a long thin handle and a knob on the end. It spent several years in the bottom of our wardrobe to be got out when she was feeling like indulging her kink for sexual humiliation. I’d stand over her telling her how disgusting and dirty she was while she poked herself to ecstasy with it. Happy days!
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