Parts of My Body I Actually Like

Two photos of Morgan's feet, one of xir favourite body parts, taken from underneath

Like a lot of people – especially AFAB people, and double-especially disabled AFAB people – I have a difficult relationship with my body. There are plenty of parts of it that I dislike (like my nose and my midriff), or that I resent (like my easily-scarred skin that results from the fucky connective tissue I’ve got, and my slightly bowed legs, a reminder that I spent most of puberty deliberately malnourishing myself). Then there are parts of my body with which I can only ever form an uneasy and conditional truce, like my boobs, which only look cute (in my opinion) when my nipples are erect, or my butt, which looks good from certain angles (again, in my opinion). Ideally, I’d like to reach a point where I feel neutral or great about all of my body parts, but I’m just not there yet.I am, however, far enough into my body confidence/body not-hating journey that I can write a whole photo-heavy blog post about the parts of my body I’m feeling good about. I hope y’all will enjoy them as much as I do! (I also hope you’ll be forgiving about my photography. I only have a smartphone camera to work with, and I have the spatial awareness of a drunk toddler.)

 

EARS

A photo of Morgan's ear, which has two piercings in it and is very cute

My ears are, I think, dainty and little. Sometimes, when I’m flirting with someone, I’ll invite them to feel how soft the skin on my earlobes is, because it’s just insanely fucking soft (probably because connective tissue science things). They’re also unreasonably erogenous – nibbling on them, kissing around them, breathing into them and so on will reduce me to a puddle in moments. Plus, they’re great places to get piercings in, for those times when I sort of crave a new piercing but don’t want to commit to anything super visible.

 

FEET (Undersides)

Two photos of Morgan's feet, taken from underneath

I have mixed feelings about my feet as a whole, because I think I have weirdly long, skinny toes – but from underneath, you can’t really tell! All you can see is a delicately arched foot! They’re adorable! (Also, I like my feet from a practical perspective – they endure a lot of walking and stomping and being sat on when I cross my legs, and I appreciate their resilience as well as their cuteness.)

 

EYELASHES

Side-by-side closeups of Morgan's eye, one with a closed eye and one open. Xir eyelashes are thick, long and dark

So it turns out that it’s really tricky to photograph one’s own eyelashes, but I did my best. My eyelashes have always been long and dark, meaning that I have probably saved a fortune over the years in mascara (or eyelash extensions, or tinting, or whatever the kids are doing to their eyelashes these days).

 

THESE COOL MOLES THAT MAKE UP ORION’S BELT

An image of the side of Morgan's torso, showing three moles and also some sideboob. A purple line has been drawn to connect the dots and make Orion's Belt

Need I say more? (I will say more: Orion’s Belt is the first constellation I learned to reliably spot, and I think it’s extremely cool that I have it on my body. We’re all made up of stardust, and these moles remind me of that. They also remind me that I am a huge nerd.)

 

MOUTH & TEETH

Two shots of Morgan's mouth - one where xir mouth is closed, and one in which xe is smiling, so you can see xir teeth

I have nice lips. They do nice things to people sometimes. They’re soft and pretty and a good place to put lipstick. I also have cute front teeth, including remarkably sharp canines which help me get into packaging and destroy stim toys.

 

VULVA

Morgan's shaved vulva, with xir hands either side

I posted on Twitter about disliking my asymmetrical labia minora when I was younger, but now I regard the asymmetry as both natural and very cute. (I’m also fascinated by how it’s the left side that’s bigger, and my left boob is also my bigger boob. Is there a connection?) I’ve never seen a vulva I didn’t love, so maybe including mine in this list is something of a cop out, but I like its proportions and colouring and the fact that my clitoral hood is so protective of my clit.


This post feels weirdly vulnerable. As humans, and especially as marginalised humans, we’re taught not to brag about anything, especially not our bodies – but that’s bullshit, because human bodies are beautiful and we should be excited about the ones we live in!

Smut Saturdays #8 – Okay, So I Have A Foot Fetish…

Image is of a pair of feet belonging to a white person (Morgan) bound together with hemp rope, some of which runs between the toes and binds one wrist to one ankle as well. Morgan is wearing teal nail polish on their fingers and none on their toes, and the background is a black patterned floor mat.

Every fourth Saturday, I’ll be posting erotica I’ve written, based loosely on my own real life experiences or fantasies, for your wanking enjoyment, and all under the heading ‘Smut Saturdays‘. If you’ve got any feedback or requests, put ’em in the comments or hit me up on Twitter @KinkyAutistic!

Content note: this post refers to a ‘Daddy’ but has no other explicit ageplay, and features foot stuff, consensual degradation and, y’know, fucking. Just so y’all are aware.


One of my favourite ways to flirt with people is to gaze longingly at them whilst licking and/or sucking on something. It works well enough on people with vulvae, who are (I hope) enticed by the intensity of my gaze and the thought of my lips and tongue on their junk – but it works even better on people with penises, because you can (if they let you) steal one of their fingers and simulate fellatio by sucking on it and moving it in and out of your mouth. You’ve got to already be at the physical flirting stage, and you’ve got to move their hand towards your mouth super slowly so that they have a chance to opt out of hand-to-mouth contact… but something about having fellatio imitated on one of their appendages makes them extra desperate to have the same happen to body parts further south.

Incidentally, one of my favourite ways to hang out with my Daddy is sitting on the floor whilst he sits on the sofa, in spite of there being two perfectly good armchairs only feet away. It doesn’t matter whether I’m so far into pupspace that I’ve forgotten how my thumbs work or I’m fully in Adult Human Mode™ after a long day at uni; sitting on the floor whilst a dominant partner is on furniture makes me feel small and secure. I’ll retreat to an armchair if my joints hurt too much to endure the floor or if I have things to do that require lamplight or similar, but otherwise I stay on the carpet while we watch Masterchef, Don’t Tell The Bride or various foodie vlogs.

D’you see where this is going yet?

My attention span is woeful at the best of times, and it only gets worse when I’m horny or stressed – and sometimes, reader, I am both of those things at once. Sometimes I’m cruisin’ for a (consensual) bruisin’ as a way of relieving both sexual tension and being-a-grownup-is-hard tension. And sometimes my Daddy lies on the sofa with bare feet, his toes just… there. Right there.

So once, I wrapped my mouth around one of them.

The biggest toe. I laid my lips around it slowly so that he could stop me, but he just sort of… watched. I couldn’t tell whether he was turned on or bewildered or whether he was both. I dropped my tongue down a little and took his whole big toe into my mouth. It was broader than a finger, and rougher, but it wasn’t a challenge to give a mini blowjob to – so I did, for a few intense and strange moments, until he pulled his foot away.

I lowered my head, unsure whether I was in (consensual) trouble and unsure of how I felt. When I suck on people’s fingers, I sort of feel like a powerhouse of irresistible sexual energy – sort of how I imagine sirens must feel whilst they’re luring men to their deaths. With my mouth around a toe, though (and especially a toe belonging to my Dominant), I felt… smaller. Lower. Subjugated. And, even though his toes were clean and entirely neutral in smell and taste, it felt more like an endurance – like a sign of devotion.

I guess he was on that wavelength, too, because he tapped my cheek with the side of his foot. Gently, experimentally. I lifted my eyes to look at him but barely tilted my head, and I stayed stock-still as he tapped my cheek with his foot again. Harder. And again – this time hard enough that you could possibly categorise it as a kick.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been kicked by an impact top, but it was the first time I’d been kicked in the face by an impact top, and also the first time that so much of my attention was on the foot in question. I watched his expression change from detached amusement to sadistic glee as he kicked my face harder, and harder, until it was an effort to keep my neck steady and my head in place. The last kick was so hard that my teeth felt jarred, and I was so deep into subspace that all I could say was, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“On your hands and knees.” He was already sitting up and unbuckling his belt. My brain was too subby to process it fully, so I just shifted myself into doggie style and pressed my face into the prickly, acrylic-y fibres of the carpet. “You’ve got me hard, you fucking dirty bitch.”

Being called a dirty bitch is as inclined to make me do the heart-eyes emoji as being called “Princess” or “angel”. I half-lay, half-slumped there with my butt in the air, and I mumbled, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“No need to be sorry; it just means you need to fix it.” He got to his knees behind me and peeled my leggings off my waist and arse, leaving them bunched around my knees. I knew my cunt was wet but I couldn’t find my wits long enough to be embarrassed about it.

My own toes curled in anticipation at the sound of his zip coming down. It took minimal effort to cram his cock into me, but not minimal pain – I squealed and writhed, a familiar burning at the very entrance to my cunt, but he grabbed my hips with hands bigger than my head – so unless I safeworded, I was stuck. I took breaths in through pursed lips as he began to fuck me, and slowly the pain was replaced by deep, delicious A-spot stimulation.

How did I land myself in this predicament? I wondered vaguely, in between scrunching my face up and moaning. Oh… I sucked his toes. He likes his toes sucked. I like sucking his toes… a lot.

“Daddy?” I asked, in a small voice. The thrusting paused. “Do you think you could put your foot… on my face?”

It’s worth noting that my Daddy is 6 foot something and I’m about 5’6 on a good day. He’s also flexible, and strong, and obliging, so it was only sort of a surprise when his weight shifted behind me and then, still in doggie style and still with his cock buried in me, he managed to press the ball of his foot into my cheek, my head turned to one side and pushed into the carpet. It felt oddly right, like lots of other D/s things: all I could think was, Now I’m really getting under his feet. Heehee.

He carried on fucking me, and, whilst it was awesome, it would be very boring to transcribe here. Rock-hard dick going in and out, front wall of my cunt aching pleasantly, feeling his fingertips dig into my arse as he grew closer to cumming, etc., etc. When we came to a wet, panting, wonderful end, he lifted his foot from my face and brought it back towards himself, whilst withdrawing from my cunt. In the crossfire, I felt and heard a drip, and sat up to turn around.

Cum had dripped onto his foot.

Reader, I lit up with joy. I asked permission to lick it off. And I was forced to concede, as my tongue flicked its way between his toes, that I definitely have a thing for feet.