Sir and I agreed we’d each carry out one of the other’s dirtiest fantasies when he came to see me in a week.
Both are pretty blushy in different ways.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
blush
When a Sadist Dates a Little, A Typical Exchange
Chat(Please note that I have a safeword and if I truly was not comfortable with this, he’d totally respect that and refrain from doing it.)
Sir: I made a strap that’s like a mini paddle.
Me: It looks owie.
Me: Dun wanna.
Sir: I get to use it on you when I visit.
Me: Nuh uh! You can’t. No ouchies. Not allowed.
Sir: No whining or you’ll get it for sure.
Me: No!!!
Me: No no no.
Me: [My stuffie] says no.
Sir: I think I’ll strap you every day when I visit.
Sir: Build up your pain tolerance.
Me: Nooo! You can’t every day!
Sir: Start with 10 and then work up to 30.
Me: Nuh uh.
Sir: Sorry, kitten.
Sir: You know that my word goes.
Being a Brave Girl, Part Six
About a week before I visited Sir, I had a tinychat. In that chat, somehow, I agreed to let Sir carry out one of his fantasies that had previously teetered between a hard and a soft limit. But, I wanted to let him try it and so I said I was game.
After we fucked, he brought me over to the shower and asked me if I still wanted to. I agreed and, nervously, squatted down on the floor of his shower.
“I can’t look.” I felt myself blushing and gazed away from him as he (oh god I can barely even write it) aimed. “Don’t do it on my face, okay?”
(Oh sheesh I can’t do this.)
(You guys get what happened right? Right? So I don’t have to say it, right?)
I squeezed my eyes shut and he pissed on my chest.
After he had finished, he told me how proud he was and what a good girl I was for letting him mark me like that. And I was proud of myself, too, but I stumbled up to my feet and asked him to just turn the shower on.
The entire time, he held me close, helped shampoo my hair, kissed my forehead over and over while I washed my body. I know he seems tough and he even admits he can be a “cruel bastard” sometimes (his words!). But, he can really be the sweetest and knows when to be gentle with me and always seems to know what I need.
And how he was in the shower was exactly what I needed after I’d been brave.
I was a bad girl today.
As part of my punishment, I’m posting this little clip from when Sir recorded us fucking while he moved me in.
At this point, he kept teasing me with his cock and slapping my pussy whenever I thought he was about to fuck me. So, um, I got a little desperate.
If anyone needs me, I’ll be hiding for eternity.
And you used to tell me you didn’t like [thing that is literally so blushy I can’t write it out.] Uh huh. I’m gonna give you one.
Sir.
I’ve got this fantasy where I’m institutionalized. The warden’s just a teensy bit corrupt and has fun teasing my needy cunt while I’m stuck in my straitjacket.
Or, you know, while I’m asleep. Which only leads to me being kept longer.
Now in hiding due to problematic fantasies.
I’ve got a gag harness like this.
But, ah, I’m not suggesting anything.
Nothing at all.
Full Service, Part Two
I should begin by saying I hate reading the things I write. Even if I think it’s well-done, I try to avoid hearing my words read aloud, either in my voice or someone else’s. It makes me feel too transparent. I can’t really explain it.
Except, I’ve never had anything dirty I’ve written about someone else read aloud. I’ve had dirty little notes I’ve written to people read back to me, and sometimes I’ve even been forced to read them aloud myself. But, it was always in my voice and about me and what I wanted.
All that said, I really, really enjoyed Bright’s reading of my story. Not only because it was removed from me and about a fictional couple, but because Bright did it damn well. It was sexy and adorable and sweet.
So, Craftsmate decided to see for himself how much I enjoyed it. He ordered me to pull it up on my phone and he plugged in a pair of headphones. After I put them in my ears, he hit play and watched with a smirk as I listened to the story.
Somewhere in the middle, I can’t tell when, I closed my eyes. And, somehow, Craftsmate wound up holding my face in his hand while pushing the thumb of his other in my mouth. And, yes, I wound up sucking it.
This is one of those things that I spent a lot time pretending I didn’t like, because I was more than a little embarrassed.
“Do you want to be a very good girl for me, sweetheart?”
The text came in about an hour before Craftsmate was supposed to arrive. I had just showered and I had just slipped on my clothing. I picked up my phone and texted back: “Always.“
I like when he shifts to that tone with no warning and texts me something like that. It makes me feel owned and dirty in the best way.
"Then wear your plug for me when you leave the house. You’ll be walking around the neighborhood with me with it in you.”
I hesitated for a moment before texting back: “Yes, Sir.“
I slid my shorts down to around my knees and took my plug and lube out. Carefully, I lubed up the plug and my asshole, taking my time as it had been a little while since I last wore it. I slid the plug in carefully and pulled my panties and shorts back up. After making sure I had stopped blushing and taking care to straighten my shorts, I went to do my hair, barely able to ignore the fullness in my ass.
When he arrived, he didn’t ask if the plug was in. As we walked to lunch, I stopped when we turned onto a basically empty street and guided his hand to my ass. He had to lean down a bit and applied some pressure to the plug, drawing a low moan out of me.
"What a good girl,” he grinned, waiting until we had reached another empty expanse of street to once more apply some firm pressure to the handle of the plug and make me squirm. “Do you feel all filled up for me?“
I blushed and nodded.
“Well, good,” he replied, brushing some of my hair off of my shoulder, “because you’re leaving it in for when I fuck you later.“ He smirked, relishing taunting me, “think you’ll feel just too filled up then? Is it gonna be too much? You’re so tiny, after all.”