Reservoir reservations, tip troubles, the vernal equinox

The Photo: A Durex XL latex condom in its packet. Its nominal Width is 2.24"/57mm and its length is 8.46"/ 215mm and it is used by most of the Seven Dwarfs+2 who are helping train the Flowers.

The Photo: a rolled latex condom showing the reservoir tip used to collect semen to reduce the chance of the condom breaking during ejaculation or the semen being forced back along the partner’s shaft causing him to slip out of the condom.

Tip troubles: The reservoir tip of a condom is generally thought to be a safety feature. However, it can be easily punctured intentionally by a fingernail of a mischievous male or a scheming female partner while ‘helping’ him to insert himself if s/he is intent on wanting a pregnancy to result from the encounter and the condom is the only protection being used. This is often the case in the unintended (by the woman) pregnancies we see coming to the clinic for a termination where the woman suspects the condom may have been intentionally sabotaged.

There is another way to minimize the protection of a condom by a woman with very well developed pelvic muscles and the right combination of pelvic anatomies of the couple, where he is able to thrust into her anterior or posterior fornix. When he bottoms out in her fornix the reservoir tip is mashed flat forcing the pre-ejaculate collecting in the tip to be squeezed down around his glans and around his shaft. A few thrusts will continue to empty the tip forcing more pre-ejaculate further into the condom until he slides out of the condom while still fully erect. This is a technique used by escorts who want to mind-fuck a partner.

The mind-fuck: Even if the woman is too deep for the man to reach the depths of her fornix while she is aroused and fertile she can push down, as though having a BM, which will force her uterus and therefore her cervix closer to the entrance of her vagina where he stands a better chance of bottoming out in her fornix and spreading the pre-ejac which will cause him to shed the condom and spew semen all over her ripe cervix. For this to work on a man knowledgeable about the menstrual cycle and signs of fertility she has to be secreting fertile cervical mucus (FCM) to show him she really is fertile and gobs of FCM mixed with his liquefied ejaculate can be Kegeled out for his benefit.  Escorts who pull this trick these days almost always (some few have had their tubes tied) have a frameless copper bead GyneFix IUD implanted with the strings trimmed off so they can continue cycling naturally and enjoying the benefits of the hormonal highs experienced while fertile and give every appearance of being unprotected except for her partner’s condom that she ruined or he slipped out of and inseminated her. That way she retains her ability to have children when her days of being an Escort, a career usually far shorter than being a dancer, are over.

Once they ‘discover’ her partner’s condom failure after he withdraws unsheathed and they have to fish for the condom that has typically been forced into a fornix, or discover the slit reservoir, the mind-fuck of the male partner begins. That can be financially very rewarding for the Escort especially if her partner has a wife and small children. She will ask for money for an abortion after emailing him a photo of someone else positive pregnancy test and follow that up with periodic requests for more money. That works particularly well on wealthy submissive men. 

A prolapsed uterus: If she is not careful a woman able to take and enjoy very large men into her fornices stands a chance of her partner’s thrusts tearing the tendons holding her uterus in place, especially if it occurs frequently.  Most young women don’t think it can happen to them, but should she miscalculate and her partner thrusts violently in either fornix and if this occurs repeatedly she is in danger of her ligaments tearing and her uterus beginning to descend into her vagina.  Being a masochist and enjoying the pain in this case can have serious long term consequences.

We need to take precautions to minimize the chance of tearing any of the two sets of uterine ligaments 1) The Pubocervical Ligaments are bilateral structures, which attach the cervix to the posterior surface of the pubic symphysis. They function to support the uterus within the pelvic cavity, and 2) The Uterosacral Ligaments that are also bilateral fibrous bands, which attach the cervix to the sacrum. They are also known as the recto-uterine ligaments or sacrocervical ligaments. These support the uterus and hold it in place. When we are to be with a very long man to prepare to take as much of him as we can we will usually masturbate by fondling the shafts of our clits or have him do it for us prior to any penetration by his penis to make sure we are fully arrousaed and well lubed so are able to take his entire length w/o risking torn ligaments from too forceful and deep thrusting. Girls who can’t safely take a partner’s entire length even when aroused are strongly encouraged to have him use a silicone cock ring as a buffer.

The agony and the ecstasy: For a woman with superior pelvic skills there can be great pleasure and satisfaction in being able to manipulate a partner out of his condom or just for the fun of being able to milk his unprotected glans by squeezing it to orgasm in one of her fornices. However, what we always should be mindful of is that in having a good time being fucked boneless we don’t lose sight of the possibility of being injured. Falling off pointe during a ballet-sex orgasm can lead to a broken or sometimes worse a badly sprained ankle. Or, rushing to get in a quickie and not being properly aroused and tented to take all of him comfortably resulting in extremely painful uterine ligament damage.  While I try always to be careful when with a very large and experienced man the ever present risk of injury as with the possibility of pregnancy is for me is one of the thrills of  having my brains fucked out in the arms of a wonderfully strong and handsome man.

Preparations for the Vernal Equinox: Since the ninth and final week of the PA candidates pelvic intensive will begin on Sunday March 20^th, which is the vernal equinox in the northern hemisphere, I thought I would include them in the Celtic worship ceremony. Being able to channel Rhiannon/Rigantona which my Goddess, Venus/Aphrodite tells me is the guise in which she was worshiped by the Celts, gives me the desire to use the PA candidates in my fertility ceremony. The origins of which until now have been lost in the mists of time. Then I will be CD16 and newly luteal and may take a partner totally unprotected if I have felt mittelschmerz, ovulation pain, two days before. The weather will almost certainly be problematic for an outdoor celebration, but I will know more as the date gets a bit closer.

 

 

 

Mind-fucking Marvin

A pair of Jenna’s Bloch Alpha pointes which fit me perfectly when I’m fertile

The Photo: A pair of Jenna’s Bloch’s Alpha, style SO104, pointes. It’s one of Marvin’s fave pics of Janna’s toe-shoes so returning readers are likely to see it again from time to time. Wearing her pointe shoes when we are together and especially during sex is instrumental in allowing me to bend my psychotherapist to my will by reinforcing his delusion that I am the embodiment of his dead wife. As I work through her pairs of Alphas I’m slowly adding new pairs as at some point hers will be wearing out though I take good care of them and reharden the blocks and am gentle with the shanks. The Chi from all the sex she had with Marvin and other men while wearing them is available to me while I’m wearing them.  

Therapy with Aphrodite and Morning wood: Marvin, my current lover and psychotherapist, is helping me better understand and adapt to my role as a priestess of the late Neolithic (4,000 BCE or perhaps earlier) Greek Goddess Aphrodite and how she and therefore I came to be celebrating cosmological events in a miserably cold wet mountaintop temple in Scotland. As my therapist he is stressing my limitations, or rather what limitations I should impose, on the powers given me so as not to warp the time space continuum any more than it already was when the powers of a Priestess of Aphrodite were given to me in the temple of Venus in the undercroft of Crag Abbey.

I have been cautioned to use my powers only to enhance sexuality and intimate relations between the sexes within my sphere and not for profit or personal advancement which could have unintended consequences. There are so many things I would like to do; end hunger and bring about world peace, but the Goddess and Marvin have both cautioned me against such overreaching. 

The story of Aphrodite, later known as Venus by the Romans, was first set down by the Greek poets Homer and Hesiod. Homer, the author of the Iliad and the Odyssey, is revered as the greatest of the Greek epic poets and is thought to have been Born around 8th - 9th century B.C. Hesiod is generally thought by scholars to have been active some time later between 750 and 650 BC. The two accounts of Aphrodite’s birth are very different.

In Homer’s telling Aphrodite was the daughter of Zeus and Dione and the wife of Hephaestus to whom she was not a faithful wife representing sexual passion rather than the bond of marriage. Hesiod based his story of her birth on the supposed derivation of her name from ‘aphros’ (foam) by which she emerged fully formed from the sea at Paphos in Cyprus or on Cythera. For when Cronos had cut off the genitals of his father Uranus, he threw them into the sea; foam gathered around them and they were transformed into a woman. I like to think Hesiod was correct because Aphrodite the goddess of passion seems more likely to derive her raging libido from the genetic material from which she was created. Having a raging libido myself I think Hesiod’s version is a wonderful story!

Fetish sex with my therapist: This past week I was fertile and very needy for male intimate attention. I know it’s a conflict of interest for Marvin to be having sex with a patient, but he has such an amazing way about him and can convincingly explain how being physically intimate with me will help us both to resolve my insecurities. I know he just wants to spend himself in a deep, hot, wet and extremely tight vagina, but to him I’m not just any tight deep vagina.  I am physically identical to his dead wife Jenna, so I let him think I’m fooled by his reasoning, but it’s really his delusion that I’m Jenna when I’m with him that makes him easy to manipulate. He’s considerate and gives me my pleasure first and I love draining his thick cream after we’re finished. For free therapy sessions and marvelous sex with a great looking and considerate man how can a girl go wrong? And so I give him the fetish sex he craves taking me in as many positions as he wants while I’m wearing a pair of Jenna’s Bloch Alpha pointe shoes.

Sex in Bloch Alphas: Marvin is particularly fond of ballet-sex which as returning readers will recall is the woman being entered from behind while sur les pointes a la seconds bent over holding on to a barre, table or chair, and in Marvin’s case with me wearing a pair of his dead wife’s SO104s. He likes me to wear a pair of Alphas that I’ve just taken class and sweated in so the paste in the blocks is melted and fragrant and the leather and satin are moist so the shoes give off a bouquet of scents that he identifies with Jenna. In order to take full advantage of the scent of sweaty pointes while I’m wearing them he takes me on my back with my legs folded at the hips so I’m in a hairpin with my feet and sweaty shoes on either side of my head while he mounts me in missionary.

That way he can keep his weight on his elbows while gripping the blocks of my pointes with his hands holding my feet pointes and me in place beneath him as he rams his glans into my anterior fornix stretching the latex membrane of my Reflexions so it simultaneously pushes up on my uterus while squeezing his glans in the tightly stretched rubber he forces into my anterior fornix with every powerful thrust. That’s a duality we both dearly love!

Ben Wa balls and condoms: Jenna didn’t like giving him head and while I’m more amenable to doing it I’d much rather him fill my vagina with semen than me swallowing it. I think I can do so much more for a man with his penis in my vagina rather than my mouth. And I do have a much tighter vaginal grip than Jenna which I discovered when Marvin and I first became intimate.

He wanted to wear a condom so he would be sure not to get me pregnant even though I was wearing an Oves cap or a diaphragm. I rarely have sex with men wearing condoms as I require partners to have negative full STI panels and the men leave contraception to me. What we found with Marvin in a condom is that though he stayed wonderfully hard the condoms almost always come off inside me which he said never happened when Jenna was dancing and wanted to be certain she didn’t get pregnant during the SF Ballet’s season.

The condoms we use – we don’t use them any more for contraception, just for rubberiest play, but more about that later – are usually Japanese super sheer latex of the correct size and rolled on correctly, but even when relaxed my grip is so tight that his pre-cum is squeezed out of the reservoir tip and down around his glans and shaft so after a few minutes he slides right out leaving the condom inside me and a textured condom comes off even faster! Using an intimate silicone lube and latex diaphragm and condom reduces the likelihood of latex grab between the condom and diaphragm and prevents micro-tears in my vaginal walls from friction, but adds no additional time before he slips out. In thinking about it I’ve decided that the condoms coming off is an unanticipated side effect of strengthening my vaginal grip by training with Ben Wa balls because until I started my Ben Wa training regimen several years ago the only time a man slipped out of a condom while with me was when he went flaccid.  

Tutoring the nobility

Coat of arms of The College of Arms

The Photo: The coat of arms of the organization in the UK that grants heraldic arms to an individual or organization if they meet certain strict criteria.  The College of Arms also creates the heraldic shields for the newly entitled and traces possible heirs to titles and arms belonging to families thought to have become extinct. 

Her Grace makes a request:  Alice, Duchess of M**** asked if I would tutor her friend’s eldest son who is 17 and will be going to Oxford this fall. Given that I’ve had a minimum of formal education I wondered what subject I could possibly help him with. She said his parents; his father is the current holder of one of England’s oldest and most efficiently run Earldoms and his mother a retired Royal Ballet Principal, are anxious that Terrence (Terry) have an intimate and positive experience with a sexually knowledgeable women before he goes to oxford since he has been in all-male schools since early childhood only meeting girls in private off-campus ballet classes he has taken since he was five. I was amazed that an all-male school could stop an inquisitive young male whose hormones are peaking from discovering the delights of women especially as he has grown up with female ballet students, but it seems his parents think that it has. I was supposedly getting a virgin to tutor on the pleasures of heterosexual sex, assuming of course that he is straight, which I think is a concern of his father as he needs a grandson as an heir.

Alice thinks there are other reasons – in addition to deepening his experience and perhaps understanding of women - his parents want Terry vacationing at lost cove this summer. They know Willow is with me here and Terry met her briefly when she taught a master class at his school. Alice thinks they want Terry at 17 and willow at 19 to become to develop a romantic relationship since terry is handsome and rich and will inherit the title and estates on his father’s death. With him marrying into Jacks family it would establish stronger interfamily ties a common practice among the aristocracy.

That seems unlikely to me since there is a two year difference in their ages and with girls maturing mentally earlier than boys they may have little in common. Not to mention that Willow is performing in my ballet company in Las Vegas while Terry will be at Oxford for the next several years. Of course that could all change. Since Terry is supposed to be very strong and have significant ballet training including pas de deux classes I’m sure he will be partnering Willow in our ballet classes and I’m anxious to see how they get along.

Tea and Sympathy: Her Grace said she immediately thought of the 1956 film Tea and Sympathy ((Deborah Kerr and John Kerr) with me in the role of Laura Reynolds, played by Deborah Kerr. The circumstances are not as straight forward with Terry as with Tom Lee in the film, but she thinks his parents are trying to avoid a similar situation once he gets to Oxford.

Alice said she thinks I would be an ideal tutor for Terry and he would learn a lot being with me for a few days. And well she might since I’ve been fucking her son’s brains out every chance I get for the past several years and my effort has not gone unnoticed as Jack wants to marry me over his father, the Duke’s, objections.  I was relieved that her request was one that I can handle easily and I’m going to enjoy teaching Terry about women while we enjoy each other’s bodies.  Jack has gone back to the UK to prepare Location Z for the Summer Solstice on the 21^st of this month so Terry rode back on Limnaea II and Alice and I took the Wanton Lass around to St Thomas today to pick him up. And what a stud-muffin he is!

Terry’s arrival: On the sail back from Charlotte Amelie to lost cove Terry and I got acquainted while Alice sunned herself and napped. I said he would be staying with Bea, Willow and me at my villa on the cove and that there would be ballet class each morning, which he knew since he brought his practice clothes and slippers. I also mentioned that none of the women including me were in monogamous relationships so hookups were fine, but that I would be his primary trainer and I have final say on what is safe for him to do. The girls know the dive limits past which an activity requires my approval and none of us want to be responsible for injuring such a gorgeous male body, not to mention a sweet personality, for a man.

Bea, Willow and Anya were on the pier in bikinis to welcome him and I could see Terry was very impressed with their beauty and the drape of his shorts showed it until he got his emotions under control. We all saw the rise in his interest and later we giggled and wondered how his parents could have been thinking he might be gay. Obviously he doesn’t confide in his father, which is quite common when sons are shipped off to boarding school and only see their fathers as authority figures and at Christmas.

Terry and the Summer Solstice: The Summer Solstice is on Saturday June 21^st, exactly one week from today. We will be leaving for Inverness this coming Monday so we can have a few days to recover from jet lag and prepare for our Location Z altar performances as Priestess of Aphrodite welcoming new males into the Old Ways. I’ve decided to save Terry’s virginity until the Solstice and take it from him on the main altar at sunrise.

Terry intends to major in sociology and specialize in ancient religions while at Oxford and when he found I am a Priestess of Aphrodite/Venus and will be celebrating the Solstice on the primary altar of an ancient holy site he was beyond fascinated and asked to participate. When I explained that participation by males required that they be virgin (defined here as not having had penile vaginal intercourse (PVI) with a human female – sheep don’t count) his virginity immediately turned from a liability into an amazing asset and he agreed to avoid having PVI with any women until I relieved him of his virginity at sunrise on the 21^st. Just to make sure he asked to wear a chastity belt when not in ballet classes to show his resolve. He said another few days of cold showers will just increase his anticipation. So Chris fit him into an old Access Denied male chastity belt and gave me the key. Terry is such a marvelously strong and hunky submissive and in ballet class has amazing stamina.

An offering of pomegranates

The pomegranate sacred fruit of Venus/Aphrodite

An offering to Venus/Aphrodite: Shortly before we left for the airport on the 7^th I visited the Roman temple below the chapel under the Abbey. I brought an offering of pomegranates Aphrodite’s sacred fruit and asked for her to bless our journey and my work on her behalf in lands beyond the sea. I felt the gold amulet around my neck warm and pulse three times as she answered my supplication. 

The pomegranate was sacred to Aphrodite who was said to have first planted it on the island of Kypros. The fruit symbolized female fertility and the marital loss of virginity with the consummation of marriage (from both its red stains and rich seeds).

Having received the Goddesses blessing I took Jack for the last time on this visit while lying in my shearling breeding vest on the mosaics containing the images of the four Roman Goddesses. It was a glorious encounter and I think Jack was at his best as far as size and technique were concerned. I was still having wonderful little involuntary contractions with a tampon absorbing his liquefied semen as we took off from Inverness

Handmaiden of Venus/Aphrodite

The Birth of Venus, by Sandro Botticelli c. 1485–1486. 

The Painting: A depiction of Hesiod’s version of the birth of Aphrodite “based on the derivation of her name from aphros ‘foam’, by which she emerged fully grown from the sea at Paphos in Cyprus or on Cythera. For when Cronos had cut off the genitals of her father Uranus, he flung them into the sea; the foam gathered around them and they were transformed into a woman.” From: Who’s Who in Classical Mythology. Oxford University Press 1993, p36.

The elusive Roman presence: A dear friend and frequent reader has proposed that a Roman commander was responsible for the creation of the temple beneath the undercroft of the chapel at Crag Abbey. Certainly Romans of some sort were responsible as they are Roman Goddesses. Perhaps I do have a Roman military commander to thank for the temple to Venus and the other goddesses surviving after the roman invasion. Although, as I’ve written elsewhere modern scholarship has the limits of the Roman Empire in the British Isles being well south of Loch Ness. 

Or, perhaps it was retired Legionnaires who married into the community and then moved north who claimed the spring for their own and built the temple over it in this easily defensible location. Be that as it may the leader who had the temple constructed has not introduced him to me nor have I felt his presence when in the temple or elsewhere in the abbey. But I will be on the lookout for signs of his presence.

A handmaiden of Venus: In the temple and elsewhere I see myself primarily as a handmaiden of the Roman goddess Venus (who to the Greeks was Aphrodite) the Goddess of love and giver of beauty and sexual attraction. Of course I can’t make every woman beautiful, but I can work with individuals to make the best use of their physical and mental gifts to be as attractive as possible to men. And I see this role as fully compatible with being a Druid Priestess in the service of the Earth Mother where my job is to encourage men to plant their seed and multiply

As for the other temple deities, I don’t relate strongly with the other three Goddess depicted in the mosaic, but do take strength from some of their attributes. My not being virgin nor chaste nor wanting children hasn’t seemed to have affected my relationship with the others. Perhaps they can see my usefulness to the time in which I live and the lifestyle I lead.

• I’m not close to Diana/Artemis because of her association with virginity, except for her protection of children and wild things.
• I’m not close to Minerva/Athena goddess of the household and craftsmen and in the case of her Greek forebear, War.
• I’m not close to Juno/Hera Goddess of Childbirth, marriage and woman’s life and a strong believer in chastity.

Seduction in gasmasks: The girls and I got some of our toys out of the boxes we had sent ahead. The thing I like about girls in gasmasks is that sometimes they can hide our identities especially if the men who are seducing us aren’t very familiar with our bodies. Bea, Tanaquil and I are very close to the same size, weight, body shape and have very similar voices. Willow and the Swan twins are quite similar in physical and vocal patterns and tone so with our rabbit fur hoods hiding our hair, M10 gasmasks hiding our faces and no tats or birthmarks to help tell us apart we can cloud if not hide our identities.  For the Swan twins and I gasmasks have additional desirable attributes in that even with the cheek filters removed they are hot to wear and have a heavy musky, rubbery scent in addition to making it a bit more difficult to breathe during orgasm when trying to scream and gasp for breath at the same time. I love times like that being filled with semen while struggling to breathe with rubber protecting my identity while the silicone rubber Oves or diaphragm protects my cervix while a lover does his biological best to seduce and impregnate an attractive woman whose identity he doesn’t know.

Ballet boots at Crag Abbey: It must be the masochist in me that I’ve decided to wear ballet boots for a few hours each day to give myself a bit of BDSM that I’ve begun to miss and to keep my calves in shape for ballet heels. With the rough wooden and uneven stone floors and staircases I’m wearing heel guard to prevent getting a heel stuck in a floor board or turned on an uneven stone.  The good news is the stone staircases are marvelous exercise running up and down them in ballet heels. The laces have to be extra tight and I’m wearing a pair of thick woolen socks to get my insteps wedged properly into the boots for running, such as it is. Actually, running isn’t my problem as much as trying to stop w/o falling.

Of course if pursued in ballet-boots I can’t run as fast as when in pointes, but still I’m surprisingly fast. I have to remember not to fight using my heels because if I drop the heel guards I can ruin attackers’ legs with a single slash and with a dancer that would be a great shame as there are too few men in ballet as it is.

Shopping in Inverness: Some of the other girls and I went shopping in Inverness since we were beginning to get cabin fever regardless of how amazing the sex or opulent our surroundings at the Abbey. After a Christmas of lingerie, perfume and sex toys I was in the mood for something outrageous.  While the other girls went looking for handmade woolens; sweaters, scarves and gloves I went off on my own.

Jack suggested I look in on a tiny jewelry shop in the High street. The owner is an elderly jewelry maker and uses some of the Scottish gold from the mine on one of His Grace’s estates. He knew immediately I was from the house-party at the Abbey and even who I was, but then I’m the only redhead in the group. Gossip is as fast in the Highlands as anywhere else in the world.

When I asked to see his pieces made Scottish Gold the owner said he had been expecting me since the Autumnal equinox which gave me a chill. None of the Scottish gold pieces were on display. He said they were for special clients. He went in to the back and came back with a small velvet box. The item of Scottish gold I bought was a high relief depiction in exquisite detail of Aphrodite rising from the sea and it weighs about 1/2oz of 18 ct. gold. It came with a matching 18 inch chain of the same gold. It looks magnificent around my neck and I decided to wear it out of the shop. After I’d paid for the pendent he wrapped the box for me and as I turned to leave he put his hand on my arm and stopped me. He called me priestess Jillian and said the Earth Mother wanted me to have a pendent sufficiently large for all to see during my ceremonial activities and had blessed him with the task of providing such a ceremonial pendent He had Made what she wanted me to have years ago and had been waiting for me to come to him because the Earth Mother told him I would.

He locked the door to the shop and took me in the back room where he opened the large safe and withdrew a large flat ebony box. He opened it and there was a much larger pendent depicting a scene identical to the one I’d just bought, the birth of Aphrodite. The larger one weighs a bit more than 2 oz. and is also of 18ct gold with a massive chain rather like medieval chains of office. The old man said the Goddess wants me to wear the larger pendent on ceremonial occasions such as the celebration of astronomical events in my capacity as a priestess.  There is no clasp. It fits over the head. When he put it over my head the wide chain links on my shoulders support the weight of the massive pendent on my chest and I could feel it pulsing as though it was alive. I was in tears as we both briefly admired my reflection in a mirror then he helped me take it off and place it carefully back in its box.

 

When I asked how much it cost he said it had been paid for. I was speechless and pondered how the Goddess works in strange ways as he wrapped the ebony box and its treasure. I thanked him with a kiss and went off to find my friends. The smaller pendent I’ll wear daily as a talisman of my dedication to Venus/Aphrodite while the larger I will keep safe and wear only for celebrations when I’m the Goddesses representative in appropriate ceremonies.

Aphrodite

The goddess Aphrodite, Venus de Milo in the Louvre

The chapel tour: As I wrote in my entry for July 12th “At lunch on the day Himself fell ill, John asked if I would like to have a tour of the Abbey and while the Duke had shown me around briefly I was anxious to be in the company of the handsome budding archeologist who offered to “slake my fascination with the chapel and other subjects of mutual interest”.

That was several weeks ago when I was CD2 and newly menstrual and his comment caused such a rush of desire – my secondary libidinal peak is when I’m menstrual - that I became lightheaded and felt the intense pelvic engorgement of sudden arousal as my thong absorbed a gush of vaginal discharge. I thought for a moment that my diaphragm had displaced and I was leaking menstrual flow, but a quick glance down at my white shorts showed only a light pink stain from the tiny amount of flow coating the walls mixed with my natural arousal lube. I excused myself long enough to empty my diaphragm of the collected menstrual flow then clean and reinsert it. I washed my face in cold water to try to calm down, changed into darker clothes for our Abbey tour and reapplied my makeup. I suppose it was foolish of me to try and get away with wearing white shorts while menstrual, but I can usually pull it off successfully. It now seems apparent that I can’t when I’m around John.

The Venus temple encounter: It was after our extensive tour of the choir containing the side chapels – small temple alcoves actually, one for each of the goddesses; Venus, Diana, Minerva, Juno - that John took me in his arms and while nuzzling my neck whispered that he would like to “probe the depths of my desire” and I murmured my consent. Taking my hand he guided me back to the temple alcove that held the altar and once a statue of Venus, perhaps similar to the one in the Louvre in the photo at the top of this entry, in front of which is her superb mosaic. I had anticipated an intimate encounter and so had dressed for the occasion in black Wolford 50 denier Marino wool and Elastane tights, a black compression front-closure sports bra for quick access for nursing, black Gaynor hard shanked suede platform pointes and a beautiful oversized Barbour long sleeve turtleneck sweater of sage Marino wool with a waterproof lining that I wore as a tunic. John had cautioned me that the footing in the choir and temple alcoves area was treacherous on stones worn smooth over the centuries which is why I had intentionally worn suede tipped Gaynors for better traction and because wearing pointes show off my legs beautifully and give me more options during a sexual encounter.

The temperature in the temple of Venus must have been in the 50s, but I was panting with desire as I unzipped the fly of John’s heavy cords and gently helped him get his erection out. He asked if I wanted him in a condom, but I said no, that I was safe and wanted to feel him skin-on-skin and he smiled. He was already dripping the clear slippery pre-cum of full arousal. Men can get ready so quickly! Though, I’m sure we had both been thinking about how we would consummate our passion. I lifted my tunic and he rolled my tights down to mid thigh, fingered me and found me slippery wet with my labia engorged and parted. All he said was “Oh, my!” He had me turn around and bend over the stone altar on which offerings had been made to Venus more that eighteen- hundred years ago. I stepped on to pointe and spread my feet a la seconde so he could step between my legs and on my toes my hip height was more convenient for him to penetrate me. While bent over the altar I reached back and spread my labia and positioned his tip at the introitus of my vagina and murmured “push.” My command seemed to reverberate off the temple walls. He gripped my hips firmly and was gentle, as he slowly entered me. He filled me with a single glorious, gradual, relentless thrust during which I gasped and moaned. I took all 8 inches and a bit of him reveling in his thickness and the feeling of him pressing on my cervix through the latex membrane of my protection as he thrust into my anterior fornix. It was the most marvelous feeling! Of being complete, of two bodies joined into a single entity and then he began to slow stroke me and I sort of melted.

I think he gave me at least three extremely intense vaginal orgasms and one cervical orgasm during which I had some sort of out-of-body experience during which I could smell roses (a symbol of Aphrodite) and the Goddess blessed me and asked if I wanted children. I don’t remember my answer, or even if I gave her one. I know he finished inside me because I was draining his seed afterward. He said I seemed to be in a trance for a few minutes after I stopped moaning and gasping and as he kissed me I awoke. John gave me a cup of ice cold water from the spring and when my head was clear I wondered if at 40 I was getting too old for a libido as strong as mine or if I was out of shape. Now, having had more time to think about it I’ve been keeping up my training and eating a balanced diet and I wasn’t dehydrated and I had gotten over any jet-lag so it must have been the combination of a new and highly skilled lover and being made love to in a 1st century temple to Venus that had such psychological and physical impact on me. Even though the temple is 1st C Roman I have been left with the feeling that my mystical encounter was with the Greek Goddess Aphrodite which is why this entry bears her name.

Pre-betrothal ritual: As I was Kegeling out most of his seed, pulling up my tights and lowering my Barbour tunic he told me he had brought other women to the temple of Venus and all of them were freaked out by the place, except me. John said the temple visit was a ritual that the eldest male child of the Duke is required to perform with his women and that was begun when the Laird’s daughter first took his great, great, great grandfather to the temple to consummate their union. Ever since they became owners of the land the eldest sons have only married women with whom they had sex on the altar in the temple of Venus. I made some non committal comment like “Ohhh!”

I’m sure the Duke doesn’t think of me as a suitable breeding mate for his heir, possibly because of my background, but more likely, because of my age. Even if I wanted and could have children the chances of their having birth defects because of my age is much higher than if I was in my early 30s. So I’m almost certainly out of the running as a future Duchess as delightful as John, Marquis of M… is as a sex partner. I think it must be that I’m coveting the thing I can’t have as John is one of the few men I could see myself settling down with and to whom I could be faithful. But as I said I don’t think I’m seen as a suitable future Duchess so I’m sure I’ll never be asked.

Deer stalking, Crag Abbey and the heir

A red deer stag

Deer Stalking: The Duke, Cyndi’s grandfather, invited us all to one of his hunting lodges in the Scottish highlands for a few days of deer stalking, what we call hunting in the U.S. Deer stalking is primarily a male sport, but I think he offered because he knew from an earlier conversation that I want to see his hunting lodge and he would have me where I couldn’t easily escape his amorous attention. I know that sounds conceited of me to say that, but he told me as much when he said it was extremely isolated and was I sure I wouldn’t mind being with him for that length of time. I asked him straight out what about his mistress, Penelope, and he said she would have to make do with my escort, Colin, for the time we were all at Crag Abbey, the 13th century ruin parts of which he converted to a hunting lodge. Cyndi said Red deer stags come in season on July 1st in Scotland, but a detail like didn’t stop the Duke from stalking on his own land. She said he routinely takes high profile guests hunting regardless of the season if there are quality animals to shoot. So, for the past several weeks Anya, Cyndi and I and our men have been enjoying more of the hospitality of the Duke. He was looking forward to some company in the field, especially of men with military backgrounds who understand that silence is a hunter’s friend and don’t need to carry on conversations while stalking. He also wants companions who are good shots as it’s a terrible bother to send a guide out to track and kill a wounded buck that got away because of a poorly placed shot.

The heir: His Grace’s son, John, Marquis of M …, who at 37 is taking an advanced degree in archeology at Oxford after years as an officer in the Royal Marines, joined us at Crag Abbey for deer stalking. His arrival was a surprise to all but his father and he is gorgeous! He has a beautiful hard body, is quite strong, has a great sense of humor, is an expert shot and is amazing in bed. Not necessarily in that order. After my last three hour session with his Grace (which, as this is written, was more than a week ago) he had to take a nitro tablet under his tongue and finally realized he has to reduce his bedroom athletics a bit, at least with me. And quite rightly I think since I clearly remember the Duchesses caution to me about not killing him during sex. That has left Penelope, his mistress, still with Colin, who is nominally my escort for our stay at the Abbey. So I became the intimate partner of Lord John who hadn’t brought a girlfriend with him. At lunch on the day Himself fell ill, John asked if I would like to have a tour of the Abbey and while the Duke had shown me around briefly I was anxious to be in the company of the handsome budding archeologist who offered to “slake my fascination with the chapel and other subjects of mutual interest”. In a later entry I will write more about my tour of the Abbey with John and especially the early Roman temple(s) over which the chapel was built.

Hunting rifles: Several years ago His Grace bought four hunting rifles from a London gun maker, J. Roberts & Son (Gunmakers) Ltd. He bought J. Rigby mountain rifles with 26 inch barrels bored for a 7x64 Brenneke cartridge that fires a 154 grain bullet at 2,900 FPS. All have Zeiss 3x12 VARI telescopic sights. One of the Rigbys is crafted as a left hand rifle to his Grace’s personal specifications and three have standard right hand actions for guests who didn’t bring their own rifles. His son, John, the Marquis, Fiona’s brother and Cyndi’s Uncle who will eventually inherit the Duchy, bought a similar left hand action Rigby 7x64 Brenneke. The first day we were here His Grace took the men out to a small range to let them fire the Rigbys to check the zeros and see what firing them was like. His gillies had been spotting deer during the previous week knowing that Himself was having guests to hunt and said they had found some lovely bucks. The five men have been out most days stalking and have had great results. The meat that doesn’t go to the Duke’s table is distributed to the villagers who work at the Abbey so none goes to waste. On the coast and in the valleys the temperature has been in the 60s (Fahrenheit) and at the Abbey the temp has been in the 50s and is often shrouded in low clouds in the mornings. So for us girls tights and legwarmers under jeans as well as anoraks are needed if we go out on the terraces and ramparts.

Crag Abbey: Begun by the Benedictines in the early 12th century as a place of refuge and contemplation it was overrun in the mid 13th C by the local Clan whose Laird then added greatly to its fortification. Built over a natural spring of fresh water the Abbey was never again captured by force, but due to its isolation its occupants were either starved into surrendering or it was bypassed. One of the Dukes ancestors came by the Abbey and the thousands of hectares surrounding it as part of the marriage settlement when he married the Laird’s only daughter. Even so an English Duke owning Scottish land has never set well with the local population even though the family has owned the Scottish estate for several hundred years and the surrounding villages are dependent on the estate for their livelihoods. So the estate agent has been instructed to go out of his way to get along with the villagers and surrounding landowners and (according to the Duke) that has significantly reduced any local discontent. Much of the fabric of the Abbey was left to deteriorate over the centuries, but the present Duke and his father before him reclaimed and refurbished a range of apartments and the original chapel which contains the Roman temples. From the upper stories the apartments have splendid views of the surrounding mountains and lochs and when the weather is clear even views of the Atlantic in the distance. In recent years the Abbey has been fitted out with modern conveniences and there is a large generator to power them all. Located in the mountains of Western Scotland the Abbey gets heavy rains from weather systems coming off the Atlantic and even in mid-summer the weather can be cold and damp since at the elevation of 2600 feet the Abbey is often in the clouds for days at a time. So the many fireplaces are kept lit throughout the year since central heating, while available, is insufficient to thoroughly warm the stone of the walls, even though tapestries cover the walls to insulate the rooms from most of the chill.

The Roman Empire and the Abbey: It was while at Ascot hearing the Duke talk about the Roman iconography in the chapel that caused me to ask Himself if I could see the chapel and hunting lodge. I was particularly interested in the mosaic images of Roman Goddesses in the floor of the chapel which is the part of the abbey that was the least damaged by neglect over the centuries. The part that archeologists have found puzzling is that the mosaics appear to be of Roman origin perhaps of the 1st or 2nd centuries CE, long before Christianity became the state religion of the Roman Empire. There are representations of four powerful Roman Goddesses; Venus, Diana, Minerva, and Juno, which together are said to be unique. The Abbey wasn’t founded until the 12th C and none of the founding documents of the Abbey exist to tell us why it was built directly over an earlier Pagan holy site, but it probably had to do with the location of the spring and in order to co-opt the beliefs of the local population in order to convert them to Christianity as was done with placing Christmas near the Winter Solstice to appease the Celts etc. That seems to have been what happened, but why the pagan mosaics weren’t destroyed or paved over by the Benedictines is a puzzle. During the Roman occupation of the Britain tribes from Scandinavia were actively raiding coastal communities in the British Isles so perhaps the original site was a mountain sanctuary from Scandinavian raiders of the time. The site hasn’t been the subject of proper scholarly study so this is mostly conjecture by the Duke.

The Abbey is far north of the Antonine Wall, a stone and turf fortification built by the Romans across what is now the Central Belt of Scotland, between the Firth of Forth and the Firth of Clyde (just north of Glasgow and Edinburgh). Construction began in AD 142 at the order of Emperor Antoninus Pius and the barrier represented the northernmost frontier of the Roman Empire. So perhaps they had outposts in the hills along the coast and pulled back to a more defensable position when the wall was completed.