being a brave girl

Gallery

Being a Brave Girl, Part Six

About a week before I visited Sir, I had a tinychat. In that chat, somehow, I agreed to let Sir carry out one of his fantasies that had previously teetered between a hard and a soft limit. But, I wanted to let him try it and so I said I was game.

After we fucked, he brought me over to the shower and asked me if I still wanted to. I agreed and, nervously, squatted down on the floor of his shower.

“I can’t look.” I felt myself blushing and gazed away from him as he (oh god I can barely even write it) aimed. “Don’t do it on my face, okay?”

(Oh sheesh I can’t do this.)

(You guys get what happened right? Right? So I don’t have to say it, right?)

I squeezed my eyes shut and he pissed on my chest. 

After he had finished, he told me how proud he was and what a good girl I was for letting him mark me like that. And I was proud of myself, too, but I stumbled up to my feet and asked him to just turn the shower on. 

The entire time, he held me close, helped shampoo my hair, kissed my forehead over and over while I washed my body. I know he seems tough and he even admits he can be a “cruel bastard” sometimes (his words!). But, he can really be the sweetest and knows when to be gentle with me and always seems to know what I need.

And how he was in the shower was exactly what I needed after I’d been brave.

Gallery

Being a Brave Girl, Part Five

After I came, he untied my hands and let me stretch my legs out while he continued to fuck me. As he did, he held onto my feet, told me how cute they were, bit the soles how he knows I like.

When he got close, he pulled out and stood over me. He grabbed one of my feet and put it against his cock, sliding it up and down his shaft. His eyes closed and he let out a contented exhale.

“Oh, you fucking pervert,” I teased. He smirked and bit his lip. “You’ve got a foot fetish, admit it.”

And maybe I’ll admit I like how much he likes it. It might just turn me on.

nankingdecade:

Sweetheart knows that nothing makes him harder than her tiny little feet.

Gallery

Being a Brave Girl, Part Four

While I was still pouting and squirming, Sir grabbed his riding crop and strode back over to me. He rolled me over onto my stomach and eased my ass into the air.

“Aww, did you want to cum?” He teased as he started to beat my ass with the crop.

“Yes,” I whined.

He moved the crop over my thighs and feet. With relish, he delivered a series of sharp blows onto my cunt, a few even hitting straight on my clit. I squealed, sucking in deep breath between each smack and bracing myself to take the pain.

After he had successfully reddened my ass and made my pussylips sore and tender, Sir rolled me back over and slipped his cock deep inside of me.

“Beg me when you need to cum, girl,” he ordered.

It wasn’t long before I was begging.

Gallery

Being a Brave Girl, Part Three

Sir returned and pulled me up to my feet, bringing me over to the bed. He kissed me and had me lie down while he took out a neatly coiled length of rope. "I thought all the rope was at my place,“ I pouted when he pushed my legs back, essentially folding me up. He pulled my arms around my legs and tied my hands together, forcing me to hold the position.

"Well, I saved some,” he chuckled and kissed me softly. 

Taking me by the hair, he turned my head and buried my face in his cock. I accepted it eagerly, sucking him until he was hard enough to fuck me. 

It’s kind of crazy how much you can miss someone’s cock. In your mouth, inside of you. But I’d been masturbating for the past month and literally missing the way it felt. 

We fucked hungrily. I kept kissing him. I wanted so badly to touch his face and I needed so desperately to get him closer. And, yeah, all the denial had made me pretty needy.

When I had to cum, I started begging.

“Oh yeah?” He teased, “you need to cum?”

“Uh huh,” I exclaimed, “please?”

Without any warning, he pulled out and stepped back from me, smirking. I practically shrieked, squirming in my bonds and kicking my feet. Of course he wasn’t going to make this easy.

Gallery

Being a Brave Girl, Part Two

When he took the first picture of me presenting, I couldn’t look at him. 

“Come on, kitten,” Sir coaxed. “Look at the camera. Smile.”

Nervously, I turned my head and straightened my posture. But I couldn’t figure out how to hold my face. In the picture, I look anxious, unsure, like I’m trying hard to please but I’m not quite sure how. Still, he was proud of me.

He set the phone down and grabbed me by the hair, pulling me over a nearby chair so I was kneeling with my face buried in the seat. 

“Wait here, girl. I’ll be back to use you in a minute.”

The door closed behind him. I was so excited I could barely keep still.

Gallery

Being a Brave Girl, Part One

When we got back to his place, Sir made me lunch and served it to me on the floor of his bedroom. He took a seat nearby and ate his, watching me with a warm grin that made me almost feel proud to eat it like an animal. Still, I was cautious about getting my face dirty, as I always am.

So, I asked him to push me. He smiled and knelt down beside me, setting his plate aside. 

“Go on, eat.” He said. I leaned down and, as I was easing some food into my mouth, he shoved my face into the plate. I’ve mentioned that he’s done this for me before. And that it’s hard for me to let go. But one day I’m hoping I’ll be able to be brave and not worried about getting my face messy and what that all implies.

When I finished, he wiped my face clean and held me close. “Now go get into position, girl. Present for me.”