Month: May 2012

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Meet Switch, Part Eight

One minute in and he was literally panting. He kept tensing harder to keep from moving. He was soaking precum through his boxers by two minutes. The entire time he was just begging.

I just watched the clock. Intermittently, I reassured him that he was being a good boy, that he was making Pretty so, so proud. I reused phrases I knew worked on me when I was being denied. I used a few unique ones.

“You want to make Pretty happy, don’t you?” I asked him at thirty seconds before time would be up, when he was just about losing it. “You’re so close, don’t fail me now, baby. That would be sad.”

He gritted his teeth and took it. It’s strange to me that in this moment of weakness and submission I figured him to be stronger than I’d ever considered him. It was in how resolute he was being, in how hard he was sincerely trying to please me.

His cock practically hit me in the face when I leaned down and pulled down his boxers. He moved when I put him in my mouth, letting a hand settle in my hair. But, I wasn’t cruel enough to take his reward away. He’d earned it well.

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Meet Switch, Part Seven

Eventually, I got a little mean.

I took his clothes off slowly, his shirt first. I licked and bit over his skin. I made him shiver.  I told him to be a good boy and hold still for me. I told him not to disappoint me, he wouldn’t want that.

I felt a little absurd. I’m much smaller than him. I have to stand on my toes to kiss him. He can hold me down fairly easily, he can overpower me pretty effortlessly. 

I felt even sillier when he called me Mistress. I felt uncomfortable when he called me Ma’am (it’s what SG calls his mother). I felt like a teacher when he said Miss.

And so I took a page from Heart. 

“You’re going to call me Pretty. Capital P, proper fucking noun,” I yanked his pants off. 

He didn’t hesitate, “yes, Pretty.”

I sat down on his thighs and traced my finger over his cock through his boxers. He shivered. “All worked up, huh?” I grinned. 

“Yes, Pretty,” he said again.

I kept his boxers on and started a slow sweep of two fingers up and down his cock. His body tensed, his hands curled into fists. I’m sure it was partially to keep from grabbing me and pushing my face into his crotch. There was something undeniably erotic about that sort of personal restraint. “Bet you want me to take it out, huh?”

“Please, Pretty,” he groaned out. I wasn’t sure if he was using it as my nickname or as an adjective when he added, “pretty please.”

I shrugged, “I don’t know, I sort of like playing like this.” I kept at slowly running my fingers up and down his cock, experimenting with the pressure through his boxers. “Tell you what? Hold still for three minutes and I’ll take your cock out.”

Switch stared up at the ceiling and sucked in a deep breath. It was going to be a long three minutes.

Holy Shit. You are a fantastic writer, all the adjectives in the right places and the subject matter… Man. xD I just feel like it’s going to be fun to follow you already. I am bisexual, submissive, 20 yr old girl trying to save for an apartment so I can explore more with my boyfriend. I feel oddly… Connected? with how things may go for you. I wish you luck in your adventures, and I hope you choose to keep sharing them.

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Thanks a bunch and best of luck in saving up for your apartment. It’s always wonderful to hear kind words. <3, Ivy

Deets.

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To fill you all in:
  • I just spent the better part of a day sleeping. And getting high and eating an amazing lunch with my friend. And watching episodes of Louie. Whatever.
  • That guy from my frat has been obnoxiously pursuing me lately since I got with his teammate on Tuesday. Oooh jealousy. 
  • I’ve got a bruise on my knee and a seriously righteous hickey from Friday night. I left my earrings on Switch’s desk. I bit right around the arch of his ribcage and there’s a pretty endearing mark there now. I like how our sexual encounters have taken on the exact opposite mentality from “leave no trace”.
  • I really want to sleep but two drunk athletes are having a verbal altercation outside my window. About sports and testosterone and I just don’t know.
  • Guys, what am I going to do about this hickey? I feel like I’m in 10th grade. I’m not sure I can handle the ridicule.
  • Also, here you go. You’re welcome. From my lawls to yours.
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So, I took my last final yesterday and I am now done with the semester! I tried to go out last night with Switch, but we didn’t actually wind up leaving his bedroom. I promise, I’ll finish and update soon. But, ugh, I’ve barely slept and I sort of need to recover.

Fortunately, I’m staying around until the end of the month for a job, so I don’t need to hurry up on packing.

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Meet Switch, Part Six

Eventually, he let me get off again and allowed me to go put a t-shirt on to get my composure back and use the bathroom. While washing my hands, I managed to get a look at myself in the mirror. The rain had soaked my hair and it had tried naturally, in these big, thick waves and curls. I normally straighten my hair or at least dry it straight. With my hair tousled this way, gosh, I don’t know, I felt like I was in rare form. I looked feral.

I decided I wanted to top him.

I walked back into his bedroom and he smiled and went to say something, but I cut him off. “Why the hell are you still wearing clothes?” I was nervous to do this. I’d never really done it before. He raised his hands to unbutton his shirt and I shook my head. “Did I say you could take them off? Lie down.” I pointed to the bed.

He got onto the bed and I climbed on after him. I had no idea what I was doing and I suppose he noticed, because he grabbed me by the hips and pulled me onto his face. It was the first time I’d ever sat on anyone’s face before, I’d always taken cunnilingus lying down. The position seemed to motivate me to keep at attempting to dom him.

I picked up tricks fast: breathplay through cutting off his mouth and nose with my body, teasing my lips over his mouth, pulling his hair to egg him on. I kept it up for a while, telling him he was a good boy and somehow getting used to the sound of myself saying that, even when it sounded incredibly foreign the first time it left my mouth. I slapped his hands away when he reached up to touch my breasts.

“Did I tell you that you could do that?” I reached down and buried his face in my cunt. I could barely recognize myself.

Hey Ivy! First of all, I love your blog. I’m writing because I have some questions that I hope you could answer: My girlfriend and I enjoy playing a lot, and I’m usually the dom, but I’m not very experienced yet. I particularly enjoy whipping and knifeplay, which I understand are two inherently dangerous activities, so I want to get better at them. I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of some reputable resources for that sort of thing? Thanks in advance!

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Thank you so much for trusting me with the answer, but I honestly don’t do a ton of reading on BDSM and technique. While I have experienced knifeplay, I’ve never been whipped.

So, followers: Please lend a hand and comment with resources and advice! Thank you!

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Meet Switch, Part Five

At one point, he had my face held firmly between his thumb and forefinger. My lips were forced to purse, my cheeks bulged slightly around his grip. His fingers were still inside of me, but he’d stopped moving them. I felt skewered. 

I felt him looking over me when he murmured, “God, this fucking body. Especially that ass. You know you have a really sexy ass?”

“Yes, Sir,” I muttered through his grip.

He chuckled and started to move his fingers slowly. I moaned. “And you know guys look at it all the time?”

Were he not holding me the way he was, I may have laughed. But, there was something sobering about the way he was handling me. “Yes, Sir.”

“Especially when you wear skirts like that.”

I couldn’t resist. “I know. That’s why I wear skirts like that." 

"You dirty little slut.” He yanked his fingers out of me so quickly I cried out. The fingers on my face left my cheeks and moved to the back of my head, shoving my face down into the bed as he started spanking me again, harder than before.

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Meet Switch, Part Four

Switch claimed he’d never spanked a girl before. At first, he tended to go a little light. I urged him that I could handle harder. “Really?” He’d ask and then I’d hear the smile in his voice, “awesome.” Somewhere between impressed and inspired, he worked up rather quickly to hitting hard, to the point that I finally pushed one of my hands down to block his.

“You know, Ivy, I’m torn whether or not to move that hand and keep going,” he said. I didn’t reply. I was going to let him explore this. 

But, instead, he moved his hand back down to my cunt. “I don’t think you want me to stop. You’re soaking wet.” I blushed as he ran his fingers over my slit, “now, why are you so wet? Only dirty fucking sluts get wet from spankings like this. Look at this.” He grabbed my hair with his free hand and jerked my head up. He brought his fingers in front of my face: they were coated, shining. He moved them back down to my cunt.

I practically cried out when, after teasing over my slit for a while, he finally started rubbing my clit. My gaze became unfocused, I was reduced to a series of “oohs” and moans. He chuckled, “you’re getting even wetter. You filthy little thing.” He kept going, saying things that made me blush, that made me feel simultaneously precious and degraded.

He brought me back into the moment when he slid a few fingers into me. His hands were big, his fingers large and long and imposing. I gasped a bit and lurched forward. Still clothed, still composed – a stark contrast to myself – Switch just pushed them deeper and laughed.