Aw, someone’s a pouter.
Why I don’t post pictures of myself: Because it’s waaaay more fun hearing what you folks imagine I look like.
bondage
Oddly enough, when I see arms pulled back this stringently, the first thing I go to is the fingers. There’s like this writhing tension there that’s just kind of been put in shock. And I’m soaked.
There’s a ballgag waiting on the bed for schoolgirl when she is done. Puppygirl watches patiently, but eagerly. Sharing is caring.
likeabikeseat reminds me a lot of my dom. Both are harsh to the point of perfectionism. And both scare me soaked.
their progress is pathetic. stronger measures will need to be taken.
The First Time Ivy Tried Knifeplay, Part 1
It was with a girlfriend. Initially, I was terrified of the concept and I dwelled on the idea that she would slip and I would wind up maimed and in the emergency room and my medical report would say I was in some kind of freaky sex accident and I really just couldn’t handle something like that. But, I had agreed earlier that day that I was opening to at least giving it a try. If I got too nervous, I had a safeword to fall back on.
That evening, as she finished getting ready for bed, I wandered around her bedroom in this old t-shirt from an event I went to and a pair of plain white cotton panties. She turned and looked me over for a moment before saying, “lie down.”
I laid down on top of the sheets, looking up at her expectantly. She smiled in this smug little cat-that-caught-the-canary way that she usually did when we were about to get into something sexy. She opened her drawer, pulled out a pair of handcuffs, and bent over me to slide them through a bar on the headboard before cuffing me to it. “Close your eyes."
The chuckle I let out was mostly nervous. There’s something absolutely torturous of having to close your eyes instead of being blindfolded. The option is right there and totally available for you to see what’s going on, but you want to keep your eyes closed, but the suspense is killing you, but…oh God.
I felt something cold drag across the exposed skin of my forearm. Somehow, in my panicking over keeping my eyes closed, she’d managed to sneak downstairs to the kitchen and get what I presumed to be a knife. It felt far too wide to be a butterknife, but I couldn’t really judge its size or much else about it.
I sucked in a breath as she went over my arms, my legs, teasing my body with the terribly cold blade. The harder I tried at holding myself still, the more I trembled. She moved her free hand over my t-shirt, gathering up some of it before I heard her sawing away at the fabric in various spots.
When she released the shirt, I judged by the rushes of cold air that she’d sliced over my breasts and my stomach. As she reached down and tore the cut over one of my breasts to be larger, I struggled with the enormous task of simply keeping my eyes closed. I had to see it. I couldn’t just keep them shut. I knew it was right there and I just had to know what she was working with.
And, so, I opened my eyes…
A continuation of the centerpiece fantasy, even if she isn’t on a table. (She’s still decorative, so sue me.) Now blended with one of my favorite moves, the face grab-lean in-taunt. I live in such a beautiful world.
Woooah. Just noticed the person below her as I was posting. I was too absorbed in the other good stuff going on, clearly.
A celebration of one of my favorite moves: The face grab-lean in-taunt.
Confession: Sometimes I do miss being dominated by a woman.
It’s not that it’s that women are better than men, or that I had stronger feelings in those situations that I do in my current one (I’m fairly sure I didn’t), or even that I’m getting tired of having a man pulling the strings. Or that, between my experiences with men and my experiences with women, I necessarily preferred those with women to those with men. (Let’s put me at a perfect 5 on the modified Kinsey scale. I’m a person, not gender, kind of girl.) I’m not. Honestly.
It’s just a totally different vibe when a girl is dominating you. Not better. Different. And I can’t really put very many words to it, but I miss it sometimes. I’m not saying I want that over a man or to replace what I’ve got or anything of the sort. I’m saying that a little lady fun would be … well … fun, too.
Think like that song “I Want it All”. Now stop thinking of Freddie Mercury. Now think of me getting tied down and played with by a sexy lady with a smoking gaze like this one. It’s kind of like that.
Once, he tied me down to my bed in a terribly vulnerable position and blindfolded me with one of my scarves. To top it off, he put a pair of headphones on me, which were playing a rather loud recording of a washing machine. And that was about it. I was trembling with anticipation. I was dripping, squirming, waiting to be played with, and yet I felt nothing. No hands sliding up my sides, no lips trailing over my neck and chest, nothing. Nothing for a while. I went to ask what was going on, and I got smacked. So I kept quiet from that point on. And then, more silence. And nothing.
It got to the point where I was fairly sure I was now alone in the room. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. I was terribly disoriented. I could feel my sheets dampening beneath my exposed pussy. I could smell myself. But that was about anything sensory, besides the maddening sound of the washing machine and the chill of the air over my damp pussy.
And then I felt his hand slide underneath my chin and lift my head, the other occupied with guiding his cock into my mouth. He didn’t remove the blindfold or the handphones. But, it didn’t matter. I had all the comfort I needed.
Yeah, I’ve totally caught myself grabbing my own ass during this kind of play, too.