You don’t want to know the things he made her do to get that lollipop.
Month: August 2012
Sometimes I get a little miffed and fist-waggy at all the “preparing her for Sir/Master/Daddy/An orgy of strangers/The Grand Poobah”. Because, sheesh, why can’t the woman in question just be preparing her partner for herself? The lady has needs of her own, I can assure you.
Not that a good threesome or hierarchy isn’t welcome, but there’s such an abundance of them that it makes me want to read one caption somewhere that details some eager girl in cute panties having some fun on her own with her little girlfriend.
Yeah, yeah, I’m picky. I’ll get off my soapbox now.
thinkivykink replied to your post: twin peaks came out in 1990????? why are we all…
Uh uhhh I came out in 1990 and I’d like to imagine I’m still relevant.
you’re perfect
You heard it from the gal. Start treatin’ me right.
(Heehee, couldn’t resist.)
Growing a Pair, Part Four
StandardSomewhere near the end of being flogged, I got really awkwardly subspaced. I say awkwardly because this wasn’t performed with any sort of D/s mindset or frame. It really was me just checking out what the flogger was like.
So, suddenly I’m all quiet and sort of drawn within myself. I shiver a bit when he runs his fingers over the marks to make sure they aren’t raised. Silently, I inspect them myself, mulling over in my head how to get myself out of this space before things get super uncomfortable.
I think, at one point, I was biting onto the knuckle of my index finger. Super. Leave it to me to get really awkwardly subspaced while standing on top of a desk.
“You would, Ivy,” I kept saying in my head. “You of all people would.”
So, I guess I sort of learned there’s no such thing as a casual flogging for me.
Growing a Pair, Part Three
StandardThe first time he hit me with the flogger, he did it on the front of my thigh and I totally freaked out. Not only had I not expected the thing to hurt that much, but I now had these random reddish lines on my thigh.
“How am I supposed to walk around like this?” I asked.
He shrugged, “it’s fine. It just looks like you scratched yourself.”
Because of how short I am, I had to stand on top of his desk so he could get the right angle going. Being the stubborn girl I can be, I kept wimping out and then pressing him to keep going. At first I would make him stop after two or three swats and I was proud when I got myself up to fifteen in a row with minimal complaint. He was courteous and stopped whenever I asked.
I enjoyed how it felt, but I felt awkward actually enjoying it when it was supposed to be an academic endeavor.
But, my gosh, for all the times I’ve sort of been cocky about flogging when it’s been suggested, I redact it. I probably couldn’t take it to my pussy or my breasts because holy shit ouch.
However, the whole experience was pretty fun, even if I got some awkward looks on the train later that evening. And I’d definitely do it again, but I definitely know I can’t talk as big a game about it as I used to. Hurray for realism.
I found this post through a tumblr I follow.
There’s something vaguely calming to see these sorts of things spelled out in a very simple list and to feel like what I go through has some logical progression.
It’s also the most concise summary I have ever seen of the things that
I’m not going to get into the specifics of what happened and where it came from, but my shame – over kink-related and non-kinky things – was one of the big reasons I started this tumblr, though I was not consciously aware of it at its inception. I saw a bunch of other tumblrs being able to express themselves and I wanted in on that. Essentially, I saw people being shameless about some of the things I was ashamed of and I wanted that, too.
I didn’t expect the overwhelming support and the following I’ve gotten, and that’s certainly helped. I’ve been on this journey for nearly a year and a half now, sometimes less consciously than other times, to try to conquer my shame. Because I’ve started to realize how much it factors into my life and how willing I am at this point to be rid of it.
Growing a Pair, Part Two
StandardI’d like to just leave a list right here of all the awkward from hanging with the guy from Ivy University:
- When I got to his place, the door was sort of propped open and I knocked to find him sort of just standing in the middle of the room with his shirt off. He just started apologizing and getting dressed and I stood in the foyer laughing hysterically while he tried to explain that it was really hot in there and he had not gotten my text that I was outside.
- He kind of awkwardly apologized for my random crisis that I had when he found me. And then, for the first time ever, I saw my tumblr on somebody else’s computer. Which was really strange.
- He very graciously allowed me to look at his knives and then I very awkwardly accidentally cut my finger on one. So, uh, yeah, things usually get uncomfortable once somebody starts bleeding.
- He, out of nowhere, guessed with perfect accuracy the third location in this post. And then jokingly complained that now he wasn’t going to be able to go over there without it being a “blowjob place, gross”.
- He figured out who Byron and Blue were. He knows them. And when he put two and two together, his face was a mixture of the expressions one might have if a) you find out Santa isn’t real and b) you find out Mark Wahlberg used to be Marky Mark. Like, the two of those blended together.
- We wound up chilling for a little bit with one of my other friends and I was telling her something that wasn’t sexual had been mentioned on this tumblr and he was like, “oh, yeah, you said…” and I sort of gave him the glare from hell because I was super paranoid.
- He handmade this really awesome flogger and since I’m a huge fan of DIY and being a bitch, I asked to see it in action. He let me hit him first which honestly consisted of me flailing the thing in his direction, freaking out, and then saying I wanted to do it the “kink.com” way. Which was basically just me, once again, flailing the thing in his direction and freaking out.
Growing a Pair, Part One
StandardSo, I paid a visit over to Ivy University the other day. I have been talking to the guy from my school who found my tumblr and he informed me that he would be in town. We’ve discovered we have a bunch of mutual friends so I figured I may as well get to know him.
This turned into possibly one of the most uncomfortably fun afternoons I can think of.
And, yeah, whatever. I got flogged. But it was purely academic. I swear. Just let me explain.
So, I got flogged for the first time yesterday.
Right on my thighs.
Here’s a fuzzy webcam pic as evidence.
(Mind the photoshopping in the bottom left corner. Can’t have all of you seeing my bedroom furniture.)