Sometimes I just need attention, okay?
black and white
I thought that if I left the special lube for Mr. Purple at Sir’s place “by accident,” I’d be able to avoid having to put him in my butt again. I felt pretty clever about that one.
Except that plan just backfired, and now Sir’s sending me to the store to buy some lube where I’ll have to freaking present it to a cashier and uuugh.
Pouting forever.
Hi, can I have a life that involves more naked, grindy couch-flirting?
It’s sexist
and also a little naive
to assume that all bullies are boys.
Overwhelmed, Part Five
“How’s she doing?” Sir asked.
“Well, I see a marked improvement,” the Southern Gentleman joked. I was on my knees, wrists cuffed behind my back, nipples clamped, gag off. Sir was sitting by the couch, having a drink and watching as I sucked SG’s cock.
After hearing that comment, I pulled back and pouted. “Hey, you ass,” I huffed and laughed. Sir got up and grabbed my hair, holding my hair still while SG slapped me.
“Something funny?” he taunted, slapping me again. “Is something funny to you? Your job’s to suck cock, I’d better not see your face off of me unless you’re licking my balls.”
Sir shoved my face back down on SG’s cock and moved back over to his seat. SG smirked and sat back, rolling his hand through my hair while I sucked. Trying to be a good girl, I kept taking him deeper, to the point that tears were welling down my face and drool was pooling onto my chest and I was becoming a mess.
I pulled back and gasped for breath, only to have SG grab roughly onto my hair. “What did I just say?” he slapped me across the face.
“My face is messy,” I protested. “I want a tissue.”
Sir chuckled, “I know, we like that. It’s cute.”
I pouted, “but I want a tissue.” Sir conceded and wiped my face while SG still held me by the hair. Once my face was relatively tidied, SG pulled my face back down onto his cock.
“I feel selfish,” SG said to Sir, taking a sip of his drink and mussing my hair.
Sir laughed, “don’t. I like the view.”
SG reached down and looped his finger between my cuffs, simultaneously bending me forward and yanking me up to my feet. “Do you want some of this?” I stumbled, nearly falling into his lap, and he laughed. “Let’s take her over to the futon.”
Overwhelmed, Part Four
Before we really got started, Sir left me with the Southern Gentleman for a little bit so that he could use the bathroom. Now alone with SG – my hands cuffed behind my back, ass sore from the beating, lingerie tugged down to the middle of my torso to allow the clamps onto my nipples, jaw a mess of drool from the gag, one of my heels off from all the struggling – I blushed when I realized that he, and Sir, were both still fully clothed and completely put together.
SG looped a finger in the chain that connected my nipple clamps and tugged upwards. I arched my back, straining to relieve some of the pressure, and shrieked behind the gag when one of the clamps slipped off of my nipple.
“Awww. Oh no, poor thing,” SG mocked as I whined behind my gag. He lined the clamp back up with my nipple and tightened it. I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut, the soreness in my nipple now compounded by the clamp being reapplied so soon. "Aw, don’t act so put upon,“ he teased and patted my cheek.
I opened my eyes and grimaced at him as he shifted on the couch and picked the riding crop back up. His hand slipped into my hair and he bent me forward, delivering a few sharp hits onto my already raw ass. I cried out, burying my face in his knee. He moved his hand down to cup my face and I could hear Sir enter the room again.
Sir reached down and hauled me up to my feet as if I were a small child, with his hands under my armpits. My other shoe slipped off. As SG rose as well, I felt incredibly small and helpless with them surrounding me, dwarfed by almost a foot by both of them without my heels on.
"You got her back,” Sir commented, and traced a finger over the one hit I had sustained there where I had struggled. I thought Sir was going to make some silly comment about how SG had damaged his property. Instead, he held my chin and tilted my face up so that I was looking SG in the eyes when he asked, “would you like her to suck your cock now?”
I may not be too good at behaving,
but I’m awfully great at showing remorse.
The Party Sub, Part Eleven
I wish I could say that the evening ended on this amazing note and Sir and I came home and fucked each others’ brains out. But this wasn’t really the case. I had a wonderful night, but a lot of things compounded by the end of it made it a little rough.
I was tired, subspaced and starting to experience a pretty extreme sub drop. I was feeling some shame. When Sir and I tried to fuck in the loft, I couldn’t even get wet. I sucked his cock, but I kept getting distracted and nervous. There were some people up there messing around as well, and for the first time I was hyper-aware of it and it made me really insecure.
So, Sir just let me lie down and he held me, kissing me behind my ear and letting me come down from everything. Star came upstairs and cuddled up with us, and at some point the three of us just fell asleep.
When we woke up, I got dressed and Sir and I gathered our things and left. In the cab back, I started to feel better and even a little proud of myself. While I had left the party being quiet and a little short, by the time we were on the road, I was chatting and gushing and going over the night.
While I dropped a little bit the next afternoon, in the weeks that have passed, I realized how brave I was and how I really opened up to this new experience. If nothing else, I’d say I totally went all-in.
The takeaway is I’m kind of addicted to these sorts of parties and next time, I’ll know a little better what to expect and how to handle all of it. Because, yes, I’m going to make sure there’s a next time.
Shh.
Just keep dreaming.