“Are you a good girl for your Daddy when he fucks you?”
“Uh huh.”
“Well, good. Because I don’t fuck bad girls.”
black and white
Last night, Craftsmate spanked me two hundred times over his knee on my couch.
There’s something about getting spanked on your own couch.
I know it was two hundred swats because he had me count and thank him for each one. Which got difficult when he would deliver a few hard ones in a row and I would have to quickly account for the ones I had not had time to count right away. And sometimes it hurt so much that I could barely get myself to speak.
But, I’ve been trying to build my tolerance to this kind of stuff. Usually, I just throw out my safeword and then realize a few moments later that I could have taken much more. Because Craftsmate respects my safeword and my boundaries, he’s not going to push it. So, it was up to me to push myself this time and see if I could actually make it up that high.
Originally, he stopped at one hundred. I was already sore, but I asked him to keep going. And then the same at one hundred and fifty.
By the time he reached two hundred, I was clinging onto his leg and gritting my teeth. But I was proud of myself and caught myself smiling when he had me look at how red my ass was in the mirror.
Today, Pretty successfully managed to do a little breathplay with Craftsmate.
Ad even if it was only for two seconds and then the dynamic just sort of stopped, I did it with just one of my little hands.
Winningggg.
Of all the things she could be left with…
a stinging rear, the cuffs still locked on, a gag still in place, the smear of makeup on her cheek
…her own lingering thoughts that were always the strangest companions.
“Awww,” Craftsmate said when he saw whyexactly’s comment. “He thinks you’re already housebroken. But that’s just not true.”
See, I’d want to be something like this for you.
But I’d need the reassurance that you would stroke my hair every so often after you put your drink down.
I don’t want to just be a table. I want to be your table. The best fucking table you could have. Even if and when I mess up.
Craftsmate had made me dinner and, after serving himself, put my plate on the floor. I got down onto my knees and went to start eating when he interrupted me.
“Not yet,” he said, picking up the roll of duct tape and taping my hands into little fists.
I huffed, pawing my napkin closer before gingerly lowering my face down to pick up a piece of broccoli.
Craftsmate watched for a few minutes with a smirk on his face as I carefully avoided getting food on my face as best as I could. All of a sudden, he reached forward and grabbed my hair.
“That’s not how kitties eat,” he insisted before shoving my face deep into the plate, covering it in food and sauce. “Kitties are messier, like this.” He pushed down a bit longer, shaking my head against the plate before pulling me up.
I stifled a whimper and cursed at him. Getting this vulnerable still scares me sometimes. I’m frightened when things start to get messy, especially when it comes to how much I enjoy it.
My head processes this sort of stuff in a way that figures that if I express outrage my partner will do it again without me having to ask. But this time, I had to.
“Do that again?” I choked out. I hated having to admit I liked it. I was ashamed to admit I wanted it. But, he complied, reaching up and shoving my face into the food once more.
“Good kitty,” he murmured as he practically wiped the dish with my face.
Without another word, I swallowed my pride and started eating.
I’ve been learning to be flexible.
To not always know exactly what will happen, to not fear the unknown so profoundly, to not be so set in my ways of how I believe things should go.
And so I thank everyone who has been sending such sweet messages of support, advice and empathy over my triumphs and blunders in exploring my poly side. I am so appreciative to see that you all have my back.
And a special thank you to whyexactly for posting this little nugget and making me blush like crazy.
I also just noticed my queue spat out parts two and three of Easing out the Kinks in reverse. Grrrr.
Easing out the Kinks, Part Seven
Eventually, we got some alone time and I got the clamps off and blushingly handed them off to Penthouse.
Perhaps seeing that I was a little anxious, Craftsmate started to tickle my wrist. I attempted to swat his hand away, pouting. With a smirk, Craftsmate snatched my wrist and prodded his finger into my ribs. I felt Penthouse grab onto my other wrist, holding it firmly.
“Guys,” I whined when they started tickling me, stopping only to switch their grasp so my arms were crossed over my chest. Satisfied, they sat back and attempted to watch the television while I groaned and squirmed on the couch. I went back and forth between asking one to let me go, and when he refused, I’d just turn to the other and ask. However, I was completely unsuccessful.
Eventually, they let go of my arms, claiming that maybe I deserved a few minutes to prove that I could behave. I huffed and gave Penthouse a shove. “You guys are assholes,” I said right before Penthouse grabbed my arm and bent it behind my back.
My face was pressed against the couch and Craftsmate was holding firmly onto my other arm before I could realize what had happened. I groaned and tried to wrench my arms away. “You know what she hates?” Craftsmate said before reaching down and pinching my ass. Penthouse joined him, both laughing and enjoying themselves.
“Fuck you,” I replied, somewhere between irritated and aroused. What can I say? I like being ganged up on.
Penthouse reached up and looped his fingers into my hair. “You’re being rude,” he chastised, “now be sweet to Craftsmate and give him a kiss.”
“On the cheek,” Craftsmate added, “because you’ve been a brat.”
I huffed and complied. For people who weren’t always compatible in communication, Penthouse and Craftsmate were far too good at working together to torment me.
As a child, I resisted naptime. I thought there were better things to do. I figured I didn’t have time to spare to just relax and close my eyes.
I got in trouble in preschool for waking up my classmates and trying to get them to skip naptime with me. As a result, I was essentially banned from naptime.
Now, I still have that problem. But some very different methods have been implemented to resolve it.