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Fuck Baseball, Part Four

One of the things Craftsmate had listed wanting to do was to torture my nipples. And when he put it that way it was kind of hard to refuse.

He retied me on my back, blindfolded me and pulled my shirt up. After tugging my bra up as well, I heard him chuckle a bit under his breath and felt myself tense nervously.

He twisted, pulled, and pinched hard. I gasped when he would go from gently brushing his fingers over them to pulling them hard while twisting them.

Somewhere amidst the condescension and teasing, he blurted out, “this reminds me of Fight Club.”

“Uh?” I blinked behind the blindfold.

“That part where he says that he wanted to destroy something beautiful,” Craftsmate replied, stroking his fingers over my nipples before flicking them.

I went to say something, but all I could manage was an “oh”.

Fuck Baseball, Part One

Craftsmate and I had determined that for every three times he had threatened to do something, he maybe carried the threat to completion once. This was, of course, in reference to whenever I was a brat while we were playing around.

And, naturally, we were having this conversation while I was tied up beside him on my bed, lying on my stomach and resting my head on my pillow.

Seemingly out of nowhere, he started laughing. I blinked and craned my neck to look up at him. “What’s so funny?” He shook his head, but I persisted. “Come on, tell me. Come on.”

“I’m just thinking,” he finally said, “about all the stuff I want to do to you when you say I don’t do what I threaten to.”

“Like what?” I asked.

He reached down and stroked my shoulder. I cannot remember the entire list or even begin to do it justice when I tell you it was some of the hottest stuff just sort of casually spelled out in a list.

Maybe if he’s really nice he’ll write it out and I can reproduce it here.

tease-and-deny:

thinkivykink:

You tease.

montecervesa:

Why, hello there.

Yeah, I didn’t really like knives before. I may be changing my mind on that one.

Suh. Mirk.

“When you find out who you are, you will no longer be innocent. That will be sad for others to see. All that knowledge will show on your face and change it. But sad only for others, not for yourself. You will feel you have a kind of wisdom, very mistaken, but a mistake of some power to you and so you will sadly treasure it and grow it,“ – Lorrie Moore, A Gate at the Stairs.

So, I saw a video on my dashboard. It was only thirty seconds long, but it kind of gave me chills.

There was this absolutely gorgeous man tied down with red rope, essentially being edged. At least, that’s what I gathered. Because I watched it with the volume off because I didn’t even think I could handle it with sound. I was blushing like crazy already with it mute.

At one point, the person edging him shoved his fingers in his mouth and I literally almost gasped. The expression on his face, the way his body twisted. I don’t know.

I’ve started to explore my dominant side a little, but I’m still consistently shocked when things actually really get to me. Usually, I figure that it’s hot for me because the act is pleasing to whoever the partner is in the situation or I imagine eventually I’ll be overtaken in a power struggle sort of arrangement. But, I was genuinely enjoying this little 30 second clip of this beautiful man suffering.

So, I may have underestimated Pretty a little bit. Just a little.

With the rope marks on her breasts implying she’s probably been tied up in another position recently, coupled with the growing fear in her eyes and the way he’s grabbing her, I’d have to say this is just the right amount of scary.

One of the more harmless elements of morning inspection consists of him smelling her shoulder, to ensure that she has washed herself properly.

She always whines that he should really trust her more.

But, confessedly, she would miss the scratch of his scruff if he stopped.

I like when I’m in so deep that I am utterly convinced that being able to suck on your thumb is something of a gift. It hinges on the idea that having some piece of you, however small, either earned or given in good grace, is simply enough to satisfy. It’s a kind of worship where that person, for a small amount of time, suddenly becomes just about everything.

Seriously.

If you really want out, just find the door and you can leave.

Seriously. Just go over to the door, it’s not even locked.

No hassle at all.

I’ll give you a few minutes to decide.

And if I find you’re still here, I’ll assume you’ve decided to stay.

Ivy

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