I have a training regimen all planned for kitten.
Have I mentioned Mr. Purple has a little suction cup?
(But also: nope nope nope nope nope.)
blush
The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Seven
So, I should explain first of all what I’d been wearing this time. Partially, to slightly put off what our plans were. I had this piece of lingerie on that’s basically a sexy parody of an apron, along with a pair of fishnet thigh highs and a pair of black heels. (Yeah okay not totally sure why I’m explaining this because there’s a photo right there but…) I was also wearing my new cuffs and my training collar.
So, Sir and I had arranged to Skype with the Southern Gentleman to discuss our upcoming threesome. However, the whole matter of discussing it would be rather limited. When I sat down beside Sir as we waited for SG to join us, he clipped my cuffs together behind my back and slipped my bit gag between my teeth. As much as I squirmed and pouted, I couldn’t deny how immensely aroused I was and how I was sort of relieved that I wouldn’t be forced to actually speak.
Sir tilted the laptop so that I was out of the frame when he called up SG. The two greeted each other and talked briefly. I felt drool welling up between my lips and the gag, and I began to whine when it dripped down my chin. SG must have heard me, because he asked Sir how their “friend” was doing.
Sir grinned. “Would you like to see her?” He turned the laptop so that the camera was facing me. I felt my cheeks burn and instinctively turned my face away, shrinking back into the corner of the couch.
Sir snatched onto my shoulder and turned me so that I faced the camera. SG’s side kept cutting out, but I saw a brief smirk that made me attempt to hide my face again.
“Don’t be shy,” Sir ordered, holding onto my chin. “Be a sweet girl, he’s here to see you. Look at the camera like a good girl.”
I squeezed my eyes shut before taking a deep breath. I felt my drool drip onto my knee and slowly, tentatively, I looked into the camera.
The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Six
He had me get down on my knees and suck him off while he had his drink. Every so often, he’d pull me all the way down on his cock and make me stay there, gagging. I was proud of myself for taking it and letting him choke me on his cock. Confessedly, I like that feeling a lot.
After a little bit, Sir removed Mr. Purple from my pussy and slid the beads out of my ass. He showed me how sopping wet Mr. Purple was and had me lick it clean before setting both toys aside.
“I’m very proud of you,” he said as he bent me over the couch so that I was on my hands and knees. My cheek rested against the back and my feet hung off of the cushion. “Such a good girl you’re being.”
He curled his hand into my hair and fucked me hard. I was so eager I thrusted back against him, and he teased me for how blatant and needy I was being. But, he let me cum and finished on my back, rubbing it in.
“Now go get yourself cleaned up and ready,” Sir said, pulling me up to my feet. “You’ve got fifteen minutes.” A check in the mirror confirmed that my mascara had run down my cheeks and my hair was a complete mess.
I hadn’t planned on sharing what I was getting ready for. But Sir asked me to be a very brave girl and write about it, so you all will see soon. It’s gonna be really, really blushy.
The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Five
Mr. Purple proved a lot more challenging to put into my ass. I tried to relax, but I just couldn’t. So, I asked Sir if maybe I could do it myself, just so I could get used to the way it feels going in.
It took a little work, but Mr. Purple was essentially fully lodged in my asshole. I gasped and moved back over to the couch, burying my face in his chest. “It’s super blushy,” I whispered, “I can really feel it.”
“Aww,” he chuckled, “and it’s not even turned on.” He reached behind me and pushed the button, turning Mr. Purple onto the first speed. I gasped and trembled, but it suddenly turned off. This turned into us having to pull out Mr. Purple, adjust the batteries, turn it back on, shove it back in, etc. Turns out we wore the batteries out, so it kept turning off after a minute or so.
He took the condom off of Mr. Purple, washed it off and put it in my pussy. After putting the beads back in my ass (and taking quite possibly one of the blushiest pictures of me that may ever exist), he sent me off to the kitchen to mix him a drink.
I stumbled forward, I was barely able to walk feeling so completely and utterly full. I was wearing a pair of heels and I kept almost spilling the drink as I returned it to him.
He smirked and patted the couch, gesturing for me to sit beside him. “Feeling full, sweetheart?” he asked.
I nodded, my cheeks burning. “Uh huh.”
One time…
daddy gave her a pretty, pink string of beads,
which she wound ‘round her neck like a necklace.
“No, no, silly girl,” daddy chuckled,
“let me show you where these go…”
The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Four
The following evening, after Sir and I went out to the movies, we wound up back at his place and he said that he wanted to train my ass. I’m the queen of squirming out of anal play, but I had offered to him that during this trip I would let him at least get the anal beads that he bought me up there. We’d only used them once before and I was super shy about it and insisted I pull them out myself.
But, while I was lying across his lap and he was applying lubricant to the beads and my asshole, Sir told me he also intended on trying to get Mr. Purple in there, too.
“He’s not gonna fit!” I pouted.
Sir placed his hand at the curve of my back to calm me, “it’s made for assholes. It will fit just fine if you relax.”
While Sir started to slip the beads in, I focused on my breathing. The strand is silicone, I believe, with about ten beads that increase in size. I tried to count as each one went in, but Sir would pull them back out ever so often to get me accustomed to taking them.
Usually, at the earliest sign of feeling uncomfortable or out of control, I would have made him stop. But, I tried to trust that he wouldn’t hurt me. He checked in regularly to make sure I was feeling all right, and only stopped when I literally felt so full I couldn’t take another.
“You took eight out of ten. I’m very proud,” he replied. He had me get up and walk around, making me explain to him exactly how it felt. I got back over his lap and he pulled them out while I buried my face in his couch.
“Okay, darling,” he continued, applying more lubricant to my asshole, “time for Mr. Purple.”
I don’t know what would be blushier:
Actually wearing this thing
or having to lie very still while Sir measured everything out to make it.
I suspect that either situation would be nothing compared to when he called in some kinky friends to show off what he made. How blushy would it be, having a few people stand around discussing the workmanship of the leather, completely ignoring the squirming form bound by the straps?
Quite blushy, I would think
Yeah, okay, that’s a good point.
She wasn’t permitted to talk that evening, he told his guests, but was allowed to answer their questions with a card that read “Yes” on one side and “No” on the other.
Forced to keep her legs open, she could feel the room fill up with the smell of her dampening cunt spread on display as they stared at her and asked about the blushiest things.
Hi can you please get more kinky friends soon.
For reasons.
He calls me his Queen of Coney Island.
My training collar.
Blush.
An interesting feature of the new nomenclature:
I know shit’s gotten serious
when he stops calling me “kitten”
and starts calling me “fuckdoll.”