I miss seeing this in the morning.
The butt and the breakfast made for me.
black and white
What gets me is the way she looks at him.
(But, God, did he really have to make that tasteless Ike Turner reference?)
so cute
Sir and I have agreed that we need one of these now. Just to balance stuff out.
sensualsub:
arousingly submissive
Photo by Alexey Aloisov
Sweetheart’s busy today.
Try back later.
“No mask this time,” Sir told me, “just pretty you. Your pretty face. Maybe I’ll let you bring your blindfold just in case, but you’re not escaping behind a mask this time.”
(I’m so nervous and excited I’m not sure I will be able to sleep.)
Last night was absolutely wonderful and I had to slip this little tidbit into the queue because I am literally that freaking elated.
Sir was super sweet and brought a cake. For someone who has three things to deal with in one week (anniversary, Christmas, birthday), he handled it like a pro.
Nothing sexy to report from the night besides the fact that I am a happy Ivy.
Cocktail Party, Chicago, 1957. Photo by Francis Miller
The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Eight
While Sir and the Southern Gentleman essentially sat and discussed what they wanted to do to me, I got a little antsy. I pouted and shook my head, attempting to loosen the buckle on the bit gag. Sir took hold of my chin and asked me what was wrong.
“I want to talk to him,” I spat around the gag in a garbled mess.
Sir smirked and looked over to SG, “do you want to hear what she has to say?”
“No,” he replied, “not really. I just want to look at her.”
Despite how much I enjoyed this condescension, I managed to work the gag loose. It fell into my lap, slick and wet. Sir went to put it back in, but I shook my head and looked at SG. The two were discussing what they’d like to do, and I figured I’d add my side as well.
“I want you to use my cunt,” I said, barely able to get the words out, “I want you to fuck me while he holds me and makes me be good for you. I want to serve both of you.”
(I had, of course, assumed I’d just be gagged right up if I started with saying I wanted both of them to go down on me at once. So, I figured I’d start on a high note.)
Sir pulled me up to my feet and had me turn around and show SG my ass. “Why don’t you show him what he’s getting.”
“He knows what he’s getting,” I retorted, feeling a little saucy. Sir slipped two fingers into my cunt and I gasped, nearly losing my balance.
“Is she tight?” SG asked and I rolled my eyes. He and Sir were playing into that whole mutual slave auction fantasy they have (which, okay, I have, too) and I was feeling super exposed and blushy about the whole ordeal.
Sir noticed me squirming and moaning – caught somewhere between discomfort and pain – and laughed. “She’s so tight she’s a little sore from having just been fucked.” I blushed.
“Does she take pain well?” SG asked.
“You want to see?” Sir offered with a smirk and tipped me forward so I was bent over the couch, my head and chest resting against the seat.
I huffed. “He already knows!” I protested, but I was left to wait as Sir walked into the other room, forced to imagine what he’d decide to return with.
So, I’m 23 today.
And if anyone asks, I’m the birthday princess and this is what birthday princesses look like.
The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Three
I was rather exhausted, so we ended the night with me sucking Sir’s cock and taking a little nap right after in his arms that turned into a few hours of sleep. I woke back up and Sir had me brush my teeth and get ready before he tucked me in and put me to bed.
The following afternoon, Sir had me take off my clothes and lie down on my stomach. He put my new cuffs on and secured them together over my head. “Are you ready, girl?” he asked, running his hand over my bare ass.
I should clarify that lately I’ve been opening up to him about wanting to explore some territory that I had been previously closed the door on. Basically, in the past, I’d had my trust betrayed to such a degree that I backed away from some of the more extreme forms of submission that I really do want. Time and again, Sir has proved himself trustworthy and so I opened up to him about some of the things that I wanted.
To avoid any more digression, I’ll leave it at this: I wanted to be encouraged to endure the pain Sir gives me and not just safeword on the first instinct. Because I wanted to deepen my submission to Sir, and because he enjoys inflicting pain, I wanted to get better at taking this pain.
So, I let him cane me. To make sure I would be able to handle the pain and as a preemptive reward for doing it, Sir allowed me to have Mr. Purple on in my pussy.
First, he started caning me. The first hit was unexpectedly painful – I’d never been caned before – and I cried out. He worked his way up, spacing out his hits, checking in with me while I squirmed and shrieked.
Next, he moved over to his set of floggers and crops and returned with a new toy that he had made. It was leather and consisted of two thick tails, an impossibly threatening and mean-looking tool he waved with a smirk. “It’s called a tawse,” he explained, “they used to use these to punish schoolboys.”
I could only take two hits before I was screaming, and Sir switched over to the strap before returning to using the cane. Strangely, the hits stopped hurting and were instead just a series of thuds that almost felt kind of good. My cries subsided into moans. “Are you hitting gentler, Sir?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, “that’s just the endorphins.” When we finished, he held me and told me how proud he was. And, honestly, I was pretty damn proud of myself.
Still, for the whole ordeal, the marks were still gone by that evening.
The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Two
“But, Sweetheart,” Sir said, chuckling as I slipped my panties down and spread my legs. “It’s supposed to go in your butt.”
I pouted and shook my head, “it’s too big. I want to feel it in my pussy.” Maybe it wasn’t the biggest, it wasn’t more than half of an inch thicker than my buttplug. But, it was long and curved and looked a little threatening. And, worst of all, it vibrated. On ten different speeds. TEN OF THEM.
Sir leaned down between my legs and started to tease my pussy with his fingers so that I would be wet enough to take the toy. I shivered, excited and thrilled to be touched by him again after so long. When I had gotten wet enough, he eased the vibrator into my pussy.
Slowly, he took me through the speeds. One after the other, I felt myself slipping closer to orgasm, then jumping a bit from a few with some abrupt speeds, then settling in as he left it on at a consistent hum.
“Baby,” he teased, “look what you’ve done. You’ve leaked right out onto my sheet.”
I blushed and reached up to cover my face.