Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Four

Craftsmate reached down my stockings and removed the vibrator. He took off the clamps and rubbed some of the ache out of my nipples. He pulled my collar on before I heard the click of the leash being attached. After taking some time to pull my skirt back down and straighten out my clothing, he let my arms down. I had an opportunity to stretch them out before he locked them behind my back with a pair of handcuffs.

“All right, let’s go,” Craftsmate said and pulled on the leash. I groaned softly and followed, stumbling a bit as I adjusted to walking with most of my senses partially or completely taken away.

He stopped and applied gentle pressure to my shoulders, encouraging me to sit on what I soon found was a chair behind me. Sitting down as well, Craftsmate looped an arm around me, rubbing my shoulder while I swore I could hear him talking to someone. The hum of conversation was around us and I hung my head, unspeakably humiliated. I could barely tell who was talking to who before he helped me back to my feet, looped an arm around my shoulder, and let me out into what I deduced was the main crowd of people.

I stumbled a bunch, shaky on my boots and practically hobbled by the idea of how many people were probably seeing me like this. I nearly knocked into someone and I heard some voice say “lovely” from behind me. I tried to convince myself that they weren’t referring to me and that this place was big enough and that maybe people were too wrapped up in their own business to notice some girl being led around the dungeon on a leash, handcuffed, hooded, blindfolded and gagged.

Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Three

Craftsmate had purchased two new items to bring along to the dungeon earlier that week: a black spandex hood with holes for the eyes and another for the nose and mouth and a rubber gag with a cock-like protrusion that got shoved in my mouth. The former was because I had expressed that I was worried about people seeing my face while I did stuff and being ashamed about it, in addition to the fact that I may have a teensy tiny fascination with hoods. The latter was Craftsmate’s idea of a fun surprise which made me blush all kinds of red.

In a matter of moments, I was wearing both of them, in addition to my blindfold. Between the way my head was basically completely encased and the blaring music of the club, I was terribly disoriented. My head was indescribably swimmy and I could barely process what was going on when Craftsmate rolled my skirt up and tucked it into the waistband of my stockings.

He started to spank me. Through the confines of the hood and the bass of the music, I could hear people talking. My cheeks burned and I only blushed deeper when I realized the wetness on my chin was my own drool soaking into the material of the hood.

I moaned lowly around the rubber cock in my mouth when Craftsmate shoved my vibrator down the front of my stockings and turned it on. He alternated between spanking me and adjusting the vibrator from low to high to off, driving me near insane before he pushed me up against the wall.

“Do you like this?” He asked as he adjusted the restraints so my arms were linked together above my head. I nodded and moaned. “Do you feel out of control?” I nodded once more and felt him step away.

For a moment, I was concerned he had actually just left me there and swung my leg out behind me to locate him. He laughed when I tapped his shin.

“Aww, sweetheart,” I could hear him smirking. “Did you think I left you here for somebody to find?” He pulled my blouse out of my skirt and hiked it up. My bra followed and I was grateful to be facing the wall and unable to see if anyone was looking. At first, I wasn’t sure what the sting on my nipples was, but once he started yanking the chain I realized it was the clamps.

He turned the vibrator back on and started spanking me once more. With my arms tied together, I found I could now turn to face him – although I could not see him – and attempt to protect my stinging ass. He would simply grab me by the hips and turn me back around, but as the whole situation sunk in more and more, I found myself stumbling and pacing. I felt like I was floating above myself and the only thing keeping me anchored to the situation was the stinging pain in my ass and nipples and the buzz of the vibrator.

Eventually, Craftsmate turned me to face him, removed the gag and checked in with me. “Do you want to go find a couch for a bit? You did a very good job.”

“No, no,” I replied, panting, “no, I want to keep going. I don’t want this to end yet. Is…is that okay?”

Craftsmate popped the gag back in and turned me back around.

Ok, I’m sorry.. I clearly misunderstood the situation. I never said you had to prove anything. And I got the part where you had a daddy too. So, yeah you have all that ok in theory, but why did you get jealous when Craftsmate flirted with another girl since you are ok with the idea? I don’t need an answer. You may even delete the message the moment you receive it. Just consider this option.

Consider this option? To what? Decide to let the stranger in my inbox dictate my sexual identity?

I am not sure what you picture poly people to be like. It seems you think they are immune to human emotions and human error. This is not the case. Polyamory is rife with jealousy and insecurity because human beings are full of jealousy and insecurity. The thing is, with trust and accountability, you’re able to transcend that.

What I felt when I saw the message was insecurity about the fact that I couldn’t provide that for my boyfriend. It had nothing to do with the other person so much as what she represented: I was insecure that I couldn’t be 100% what he wanted in bed.

Our vanilla relationship is really strong and healthy. We do really well with each other and for that I am grateful. But we recognize that we are both interested in nonmonogamy and he wants his painslut, I want my Daddy and some lady love, and we are both okay with that.

In fact, we genuinely want that for each other. We’ve talked about it and expressed that. And because our vanilla relationship is stronger than a few chocolate things that don’t match up, having other partners isn’t going to topple the relationship provided we continue to be accountable and honest about them. And I am genuinely happy at the prospect of another person fulfilling this need for him and he feels the same way and has been really encouraging about the Daddy thing. Because we love each other and we know that forming a deep bond with another person won’t diminish ours.

So, I am not sure why you are so invested in my sexual identity or why you feel the need to try to negate it. But I am going to have to ask you to mind your own goddamn business. Consider that option.

I can totally relate to the whole “jealousy” issue.. There is one thing I don’t understand, why are you referring to yourself as poly amorous when you clearly are monogamous? I don’t say it as an insult. I am monogamous too. Sorry for questioning as an anon , I just don’t have a tumblr:)

Because we’re not monogamous?

Yeah, I have a boyfriend. But I also had a Daddy until demands on time and distance made that kind of peter out a little sexually and whatnot. We still talk a bunch. And Craftsmate and I are about to enter what could be a three year long distance relationship because I will be heading to grad school a fairly significant distance from him. We’ve been gearing up to start exploring other partners. I’d like someone more Daddy-like and nurturing and he wants someone more masochistic. These people would be, of course, secondaries.

I also have zero interest in spending my entire life with the same person. Yeah, I’d like a primary spouse-like figure. But it would be ideal if we could both have the trust and accountability to pursue other stuff, too.

I’ve been wrapped up in my senior year and writing a thesis, so I haven’t had a ton of time to explore other partners. I have barely had enough time to devote to my primary relationship. So maybe I’m a little more polyamorous in ideology than practice right now. Sorry.

And my gosh. You wouldn’t ask a lesbian to prove she’s a lesbian after she hasn’t gotten any pussy action in a couple of months.

whyexactly:

It is odd that I could have guessed that was what would happen next?

(except I picked facing out…)

Teehee.

Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Two

Craftsmate and I rounded a few corners and found a wall where two leather arm restraints hung down from two short, adjustable chains. I bit my lip nervously as he set his bag down, but tried to act a bit cavalier as I approached the chains.

I backed up carefully against the wall, raising my arms up and smiling playfully. “All right, I’m ready.”

“Sweetheart,” he replied with a smirk, “I think I want you facing the wall.”

Blushing, I turned on my heel before he seized my arms up and started securing them into the cuffs.

Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part One

Yeah, you read it right. And while getting ready was not nearly as glamorous as this gif and mostly took place in a public restroom, it happened.

Craftsmate and I picked pseudonyms, practiced all of yesterday calling each other them and headed out that evening to a BDSM club. Naturally, I was completely nervous heading in and just about panicked when Craftsmate left me alone within the first fifteen minutes to find the men’s room.

This was for a number of reasons, some being:

I was severely underdressed and was starting to realize it. Or maybe overdressed. It’s hard to tell. Because people were wearing significantly less clothing than I but it was significantly more ornate. I had on a blouse, a skirt, stockings, boots. I don’t really own any fetish wear and agh I don’t know but yeah.
I had no idea where to look because literally everywhere I turned there was some crazy stuff happening. And so I kind of stood alone fiddling with my skirt and trying not to die on the spot after going face-to-face with literally one of the biggest penises I have ever seen in my life.
Some guy came up and tried to be social. Apparently “so, what do you do?” is not an appropriate or specific-enough question for a BDSM club.
Then this girl ran over to me and was like “OH! I know you!” And I just about peed my pants and I was like, “NO THERE IS NO WAY YOU COULD KNOW ME NO I HAVE NEVER BEEN HERE BEFORE I HAVE NEVER SEEN YOU IN MY LIFE BEFORE.” And then she’s all, “oh, nevermind, you just look like someone” and some nearby woman was like, “don’t mind her, she’s trying to hit on you.” Cue the blushing.
And then, right before Craftsmate finally finds me, there’s some guy literally screaming on another floor. So, ah. There’s that.

We wind up sitting with the girl who had just approached me while she emptied out this huge bag she was carrying to show us the absurd plethora of toys she was lugging around. After watching her explain her hoard to us for a while, Craftsmate and I decided to slip away to one of the more secluded areas to mess around for a bit.

(Oh, and happy 2000th post to meeee.)

This week, I have been committing several small acts of bravery. I am moving past that which I have been anxious about and denied about myself. Tonight, I’m going to take a big step.

Wish me luck.

robotcosmonaut:

Love Me, I’m Trying

Usually, I am really good at wriggling out of stuff. I’m fairly flexible and I have very little hands, which makes for relatively quick escapes from even the most ornate arrangements.

So, when I asked Craftsmate to tie me up and make escape as close to impossible as he could, I was still expecting to be able to get out in time to have lunch in an hour.

“Now, don’t go easy on me,” I chided.

That morning, Craftsmate heeded my request tenfold. He tied my wrists together with rope, ran one cuff through the rope, and tied the other off to the bedpost. He wrapped my arms, at the forearm and elbow, in duct tape. He tied my ankles together with rope and anchored it to the foot of the bed with a line of zip ties, which he seemed to delight in pulling tight until my body was stretched taut over the bed. He taped my vibrator against my clit and proceeded to loop my thighs in tape to prevent me from removing the vibrator. He then covered the knots in the ropes that held my wrists and ankles with tape and looped my hands in it until they were reduced to useless little fists. Finally, he blindfolded me and strapped on my ballgag before taping over it.

While I did manage to get the gag out of my mouth and shake the blindfold off, no amount of squirming could loosen any of the ropes or dislocate the tape. Although I had cleverly gotten Craftsmate to give me some water, which I proceeded to spit out onto the tape holding my forearms to loosen its hold, its removal made close to no difference.

What’s more, the vibrator on my clit was doing its job at keeping me distracted. I found I could not manage more than twenty minutes without having to stop struggling and just enjoy the feeling of it.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Craftsmate would say with a smirk. “that’s right. You just take a little break.”

When I managed to get the tape off of my fists, Craftsmate only turned the vibrator onto high to make my task more difficult.

“Why don’t you just relax?” He asked, “you know you can’t get out. Why don’t you just enjoy this and endure the consequences of begging me to let you out?”

I was stubborn. Needless to say, I missed lunch and almost three hours later I finally begged him to let me go. In exchange, I have to allow Craftsmate to do this again.

Only next time, he says, he knows a few ways to make it “better.”

singlechair:

Gingerrkitten

A bad case of the squirmies.

Ivy

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Month: April 2013

I can totally relate to the whole “jealousy” issue.. There is one thing I don’t understand, why are you referring to yourself as poly amorous when you clearly are monogamous? I don’t say it as an insult. I am monogamous too. Sorry for questioning as an anon , I just don’t have a tumblr:)