Do you tell your partners who don’t know you from the blog that you have this blog? Before you write about someone do you ask permission?

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Some. A lot of my partners do know about it, even if they don’t know the specific web address to it.

Along the way, I ask people often if I can include certain details. After the New Year’s Eve play party, I asked Star – who was one of the hosts – what capacity I would be able to write about it while still being respectful.

When it comes to people where I’m just honestly not sure about, I want to be safe. Usually, I won’t write about those people. If I do, I change details about them so they’re really not identifiable at all.

Obviously, I’m just as concerned about their privacy as I am about my own. 

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Halfway There, Part Ten

Flint must have seen it in the look on my face. He had Macy back at eating my pussy and Lida was bent over in my lap. I was kissing her while Flint played with her, but kept catching myself looking over her shoulder while I kissed her neck to smirk at him. I joke that I enjoy feeling like the bottomest of the bottoms, but something about the whole vibe of what was happening made me feel a little cocky. 

“Ivy,” he asked, “you want to try domming?”

Instantly, I got super bashful. He had Macy lie facedown on the couch and handed me the rute stick. At first, I was very nervous about it. I was basically just tapping Macy on the ass with it. He had Lida kneel down next to me, but I just kept looking at my feet.

“You could hit harder,” Macy said.

Something about the way she said it flipped a switch in me. I raised a brow and measuredly delivered a harsher swat to her ass. “Oh yeah? I could hit harder?” I gave a few more. She moaned into the pillow.

I glanced over to Flint nervously, trying to feel out if this was all right, but he just grinned and took a seat.

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I’m hanging out with the lovely worthlessrapemeat tonight and getting dinner at a place we both love.

She kind of looks like the pretty meanie in this gif.

Except she’s prettier.

And meaner.

Ten Things White People Can Do About Ferguson Besides Tweet

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Ten Things White People Can Do About Ferguson Besides Tweet

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nankingdecade:

kinkycasey:

Sir didn’t expect me to be

so short.

Story of my life with Kitten.

HEY.

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Halfway There, Part Nine

When the food was done, Macy walked into the living room with her plate and took a seat on the couch. “Make sure you put your feet up on Ivy,” Flint said, which was in theory hot, but Macy has the coldest feet I have ever encountered. As in, do you have a circulatory system?-level cold. I groaned, but it wasn’t so uncomfortable that I was going to make it stop.

Lida’s feet soon joined hers and the three ate, talking and mostly not acknowledging my presence on the floor until I asked to be untied when my legs were starting to lose circulation a bit from being folded up for so long. They let me out, taking a bit to admire the rope marks on my skin while I stretched out.

We sat and watched television for a while, letting ourselves relax before the start of the inevitable round two. 

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So, I discovered yesterday that I enjoy figging. 

Sir and I were skyping and I wanted to do something exciting and special for him. I hesitated at first, because I usually hate pain play, but I had the ginger root and I couldn’t hide the fact that I was a little curious. With clothespins on my nipples, I carefully exposed a little bit of the ginger and let him direct me.

He had me rub it onto my labia first. I was disappointed when the sting came on only mildly, but suddenly the burning swung into full effect. I felt like I was glowing. I usually hate pain, but this was absolutely amazing. I really, really liked it.

He directed me to rub it all over the hood of my clitoris before pushing the hood back and getting some on my clit. After a little experimenting, I discovered I really enjoyed carving out a little groove into the ginger with my nail and situating the groove over my clit. That was totally intense and really awesome.

I went off to my evening plans with my pussy still soaked and tingling, considering that maybe I’d found my favorite pain.Â