Hey, Craftsmate.
Teehee.
Nothing beats a sweet rim.
blush
Oneway ticket to Blush City.
Bonus points: blow out your own candles. Nobody else is going to do it.
Happy birthday, Ivy!
“We’re either doing it now in the back or later in front of your friends.”
I pouted. I dragged my feet. I whined softly enough that people wouldn’t hear.
Away from my friends, Craftsmate sat down and patted his lap. I shook my head and tried not to grin when he pulled me over his knee and hiked my dress up.
“You’re going to count, all the way up to twenty-two,” he said and his hand collided with my ass.
I could hear my friends laughing a little ways away and hoped no one would hear the noise and wander inside. I grabbed onto the chair and gasped, attempting to keep my voice low.
“One.”
Blush city.
Cats Don’t Do the Dishes, Part One
Craftsmate had been asking about my plug a lot in the past week or so when I got the text about what to do when I came to his room. I had arranged to hang out with him and mess around a bit that lazy Sunday afternoon, but I had never received instructions like this from him before.
He had said that I should come over to his place, strip down immediately once I had gotten through the door and let myself into his bedroom. I considered that I was fine with the idea of doing this, even if it was madly blush-inducing. I even got a little ballsy and put my plug in.
As I was getting ready to go, I stole a glance into the mirror and saw the blush burn in my cheeks. Walking over to Craftsmate’s place, I got so anxious I had to put my headphones in and play music to distract myself. I was sure people could see right through my blush, though I knew it was a completely ludicrous assumption to make that blushing girl equals plugged ass.
When I reached his place, I set my backpack down and took a look around. His roommates weren’t home and the shades of the living area were drawn. I stripped down to everything but my panties, walked into the kitchen and had a glass of water. Steeling myself, I walked over to the door to his bedroom and pulled it open.
Playdate with Popcorn, Part Two
One of the best parts of my visit to see Penthouse was that I got to see one of my friends from Ivy University who graduated this past spring. She now works in Penthouse’s area and so I ventured off with her for a few hours before the playdate to have a drink.
Of course, I couldn’t keep my mind off of my plans for later. And, even if I only had one drink, apparently I have no sense of subtlety.
“What’s going on?” My friend finally asked, giving me a nudge. “You’ve got that little sparkle in your eye.”
Playdate with Popcorn, Part 1
I was all nervous about texting Popcorn after we messed around, but Penthouse insisted she would want to. And, lo and behold, when I picked up my phone she had already texted me thanking me for letting her see me leashed.
Except, I was way too anxious about texting her still and Penthouse had to sit there, play with my hair, calm me down, and then text her for me. Really. Because I’m bashful and apparently still in middle school. But he was a very good sport of listening to me get all nervous and then giddy and then everywhere in between.
But, the plans to get together later that evening were made and things were looking peachy.
Under your skin, 1966
Chained, Part Three
Very shortly, Popcorn arrived and Penthouse left me in his room to fetch her. Hearing them walk through his common area and chatting casually, I only blushed deeper. When I heard the door open, I could barely look up and instead watched two sets of feet enter Penthouse’s bedroom.
“What do you think?” Penthouse asked, moving past me to stand behind me.
Popcorn’s shoes were just a foot from my hands. “Very nice.”
Penthouse moved over to the bed-frame and unhooked the chain, holding onto it. “What do you say?” he asked me, tugging gently on the leash, “look at her and say it.”
It took all the will I had to make myself look up at Popcorn. Not because I was ashamed or that I wasn’t into it, but instead because I was unbelievably turned on. As I opened my mouth to speak, she smiled warmly. “Thank you,” I stammered out.
I could hear the smirk in Penthouse’s voice as he held the chain out to her. “Want to hold her?”
“I think I would,” she replied, before looking down at me. “You all right with that?” I nodded and she took it, weighing the chain in her hand and smiling. She gazed up over me, at Penthouse, and added, “oh, I like this a lot.”
Chained, Part Two
Penthouse attached the other end of the chain to my collar. It was heavy, but not impossibly, so I had the choice to either hold it in my hands or get down on my knees to avoid it pulling too much on the collar.
I held onto the chains and Penthouse walked over, stroking my hair. “How do you feel?” he asked. “You all right?”
I nodded, smiling nervously. “Yeah. I really like this.”
“Could I invite Popcorn over?” Penthouse asked, referencing the girl from the other night. (Yes, I’m going to call her Popcorn. DEAL. I’m terrible with names.)
My gaze fell down to my feet and I doubted she would want to. After all, it was awkward if she had met me before, wasn’t it? She wouldn’t want to do this with a girl she’d only met once at a party. But, I nodded. Secretly, I wanted it. But I doubted it would come together. And, if I wasn’t comfortable, he made it clear that I could end it anytime I wanted.
He took out his phone and texted her. Moments later, he smirked at me. “Oh, she’s on her way over. Maybe you should get on your knees.”
Shocked, I sank down to my knees and placed my hands on the floor, letting the chain go. I bit my lower lip, so excited I was shaking.
Penthouse asked me, before I came, if I would want to be leashed in front of a friend of his. He knew I liked it, he knew she liked the idea of it, and he conspired to make it happen. Blushing, but not thinking anyone would actually want to, I agreed.
On Friday night, we went to hang out with a few of his friends and he mentioned that she would be there. The whole time, I nervously looked around trying to figure out who this girl was.
At one point, this very pretty, petite girl in a little denim skirt mentioned that she liked popcorn because it was something she actually wasn’t allergic to.
Earlier that day, he had discouraged me from eating Nutella, because he mentioned the girl had a pretty bad nut allergy. Putting two and two together, I blushed about six shades of pink.