Months ago, I sent Sir this gif, saying that it made me really wet. “What do you think she had to do?” he asked, which only made me blush.

That night, I had plans to get together with Pup, and about an hour beforehand Sir texted me saying that I should wear something I didn’t mind losing. “Something cute,” he added. I found a bra that was starting to wear a bit at the straps, an old pair of tights that were ripped at the toe, a blouse that was a bit too big on me that I’d used for a costume. I couldn’t find anything beyond the tights to wear on bottom, so I just found a skirt that matched and sent a picture to Sir. “All right,” he replied, “I’ll tell him not to mess up the skirt. Put your hair in pigtails.”

“What’s going on?” I texted him, getting a little nervous. I still braided my hair, and made sure to wear a long coat over my outfit. Without it, I kind of looked like a schoolgirl or some porny parody of a teacher and I felt a little silly wearing it.

Sir didn’t respond, and a few minutes later, Pup had arrived. “Nice hair,” he mussed the top of my head. I shot him a glare. “I figured we would go get some coffee.”

I shifted nervously. “Are you sure you don’t just want to stay here?” I didn’t want to take off my coat in public.

“No, come on,” he led me down the stairs and over to a cafe near my place. When the waitress asked if we wanted the drinks for here, I quickly replied that they were to go. When someone I knew came over to say hi and comment on my hair, I nearly died on the spot.

We got our drinks and ended up walking around outdoors. Eventually, we found our way to a few empty streets and I started getting a little bratty. It’s my usual reaction to a situation where I feel vulnerable, and I was feeling pretty vulnerable at that moment.

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to stick you behind that car and fuck your face,” Pup said and grabbed my arm.

I huffed and tried to tug it away. “Aren’t you still chaste or whatever?”

“No,” he replied and pulled me along. “I don’t think so.”

When we got back to my place, I’d barely locked the door when Pup pushed me down onto the carpet. He pulled my coat open and pushed it off my shoulders, tossing it aside. I struggled underneath him, trying my hardest to hide a smirk, but stopped short when I saw him take a knife out of his pocket and flick it open.

“He told me not to mess up the skirt, but it’s not my fault if you keep moving,” Pup said and flipped my skirt up around my waist with his free hand. He grabbed a fistful of the material of my tights and sliced it away with the knife. Slipping the knife under the hole he’d made, he cut a slit down my leg. “I like this,” he murmured to himself and I saw his eyes light up.

I hadn’t done anything with genuine fear involved in quite a while, and maybe because this was new territory with him, my eyes welled up with tears. It was weirdly satisfying cry – honestly even erotic – but Pup still stopped and checked in. “I’m good, really,” I answered, “I’m enjoying myself.”

Pup reached up and pulled open my blouse, chuckling when he encountered my bra. He took the bow at the front between his two fingers and gave it a little tug. “Cute,” he teased and sliced it away before slipping the knife under one strap, then the other.

“Aww, is someone scared?” Pup taunted as he returned to shredding the tights from my body with his knife and free hand. Curls of stray, torn nylon were spread around me on the carpet. “Scared I’m going to slip and hurt you?” He set the dull end of the knife against my cheek and I sucked in an anxious breath. His hand slipped down between my legs and he laughed, “you don’t seem like you mind it too much.” He closed his knife and returned it to his pocket. “Get in your bedroom,” he tapped my side with his foot. “Now.”

I don’t remember all the particulars of what we did, beyond the fact that mostly it was a lot of beating and me sucking his cock. I ended up on my knees by the side of my bed by the end, exhausted. Pup got up to his feet and walked over to his discarded pants. He took out his wallet, thumbed through it, and took out a twenty. Moving back in front of me, he crouched down and pushed the bill into my mouth. I watched in shock as he pulled his clothes on.

“I can’t take this,” I said as I tried to give it back. “This isn’t…”

“It’s not my money,” he replied. “So tell your boyfriend I said thanks for the blowjob.”

I still held out the twenty. “He gave you money?”

Pup patted my head, “he said he’d reimburse whatever I decided to give you. I meant to break this at the coffee shop.” Out of wanting to get out of there fast, I’d paid for both of our drinks. “Probably more than you deserve.”

“I can’t…” I objected and watched him walk towards the door.

He grinned, “bye, whore. Thank Craftsmate for me, would you?”

He had intended to just step out for a minute and then come back and give me aftercare, but I was so subspaced and confused and frustrated that I kind of freaked out when he went to pretend to leave. While he took care of me, I texted Sir and thanked him for letting me realize this fantasy I’d had with Pup. It required a lot of trust and generosity on his part. I count it as one of his and my biggest poly successes.

“Please take the money back,” I said when Pup went to tuck me in and head out. When he shook his head, I huffed and added, “I’ll just use it when we go apple picking, then.”

“It’s your whore money,” he replied and kissed my forehead.

That Time Pup Was Celibate For A Little Bit, Part Ten

Before the whole break from messing around thing, Pup used to grab my face like this all the time. (He still does now, sometimes when I’m being a brat, sometimes when he’s fucking me.) When I went to show him out that evening, he did it again as I was mid-way through some bratty little comment.

Before he left and after he’d torn my tights up, Pup had gotten up to his feet and stood over me. I was teasing him, making some comment about how I didn’t want to sully his “sacred vow,” when he lightly applied pressure from the heel of his foot into my diaphragm.

(Hey readers: Don’t try this at home. You’ve got a bunch of fragile-ass bodily infrastructure going on in there. When I say lightly, I mean really freaking lightly. Pup was massively careful with this and I don’t want any of you hurting yourselves on my account, okay?)

I coughed. No matter how hard I tried to breathe in, I couldn’t. I could take little shallow puffs of breath if I really tried to, but otherwise I was effectively cut off. I’d never experienced breath play like that before, and I gasped for breath when he drew his foot away.

“Are you sorry?” He asked.

I couldn’t help myself. I felt my mouth spread into a smirk. Pup’s foot lowered back down and I gasped for breath.

“You’re a little bitch, you know,” he said and lifted his foot for a moment. I had barely enough time to catch my breath before he moved it back down. “You’re selfish. You deliberately provoke me. You’re a disgusting slut and I am going to ruin you.”

It stopped about there. My eyes were starting to get glassy with subspace. He read the signs and helped me sit up, talking me out of it.

And still, when he went to leave, I made a bratty comment. That’s how I knew we were back to normal.

That Time Pup Was Celibate for a Little Bit, Part Eight

“I saw you flash your tights at him,” Sir teased when I was putting my coat on to leave.

I smirked. “Stockings. Not tights.”

Pup was on his way out, too, and we figured we’d all walk together since he’s just about a block away from me (yeah, seriously). I’d brought a change of shoes because I didn’t think I wanted to walk home in my heels, but just ended up essentially throwing my shoes at Sir, claiming I could walk in the heels just fine.

The party was a little bit outside of the area of the city where Pup and I live, so we had a tiny trek ahead of us on a few residential roads that were more or less empty. I was being a little brat as we made our way away from my friend’s place, and I tossed my purse at Sir as well. “Now carry this, too,” I said, sticking out my tongue.

I was still walking when I felt Pup’s hand come up the back of my neck and tangle in my hair. We’d all had a little bit to drink, but none of us were “impaired.” But, the surprise of him seizing me by the hair made me trip a bit, especially combined with the fact that he hadn’t stopped walking. I ended up stumbling along beside him as he said, “you’re being a little brat.”

I grinned and glanced over at Sir, trying to gauge if he was all right with what was going down. I was met with a grin and winked before Pup shook me forward.

“You’re being a brat.” Pup tilted my head to exaggerate my glance at Sir. “Say you’re sorry.”

I felt my cheeks flush. “I’m sorry.”

“Say thank you, he’s been so nice to you.”

My legs felt a little weak. I hadn’t been co-dommed by two men since the threesome with SG that Sir and I had back in January, and I was nervous and unsure but massively turned on. “Thank you.”

“That’s a good girl,” Sir replied. I giggled and tried to twist away from Pup, but Sir grabbed my wrist. I walked between the two of them like that until we started to see people.

Sir and I ended up going home alone that night, and probably for the best. It would’ve been a weird way to open things back up with Pup. But the next morning I woke up thinking that maybe things were back open.

That Time Pup was Celibate for a Little Bit, Part Seven

I made my way back into the other room after a little while to find that Pup had gotten up to get a drink. I sat down next to Sir on the couch and asked if talking to him went okay. “Yeah, totally fine,” Sir replied.

Pup came back and sat down in an armchair a little to my left, but still angled so he could look at and talk to Sir and me. I was about to talk to him when someone else came over and asked, “I’m sorry, aren’t you cold in that dress?”

“Oh no,” I chuckled. “I’m fine.”

“But aren’t your legs cold?” she asked.

“Nah,” Sir interjected, “she’s wearing tights.”

“They’re not tights,” I said, “they’re stockings. I don’t really buy tights anymore, just stay-ups.” And because I’d had a little bit to drink and I was feeling a little bit brazen, I hitched up the side of my dress, giving Pup a full view of my leg and the top of my stockings. For good measure, I shot him a little smirk.

That Time Pup Was Celibate For a Little Bit, Part Three

I should preface this part with the fact that a running thing Pup and I had before the whole celibacy thing was that he would jokingly threaten to show up at my office during my office hours and make me suck his cock. The idea of that kind of degradation made me endlessly blushy, and I would pout and insist that he would never, ever do that kind of thing. Obviously, he wouldn’t, but that didn’t stop him from using the idea to make me wet.

Once, he’d been over my house and, while we were sitting on my couch, brought that threat up because I was being a brat. His hand slid up my dress and he touched me while I begged him not to do it and apologized for being such a bad girl. He smirked and stopped before I could get off from it. When he left, I found myself embarrassingly wet.

Anyway, that evening I had agreed to meet up with Pup and do some work at a cafe. The place was crowded, but we found a row of counters facing a wall and sat down beside each other. Pup seemed to be doing all right, all things considered, and we more or less went about our work for the first hour or so.

Then, at some point, I’d made some bratty comment to Pup because the first rule of everything is that I’m 200% brat.

“I swear to God,” Pup said. “One day I’m going to come to your office and do whatever I want with you.”

I laughed. “You can’t. You’re celibate now. I wouldn’t want to tarnish your purity.”

He reached under the counter and put his hand on my leg, easing my skirt up a bit. “When I’m not anymore. I’m going to make you regret it.” He teased his hand over my thigh, “and you’re going to be very sorry.” His hand stayed there, no matter how much I pouted.

And that, my friends, was how I awkwardly left a little bit of a wet spot on a cafe chair. (Which I like totally wiped up and it’s a metal chair so it was fine okay.)

It’s a typical evening where Sir’s trying to work from home and I’m buzzing around him and acting all little and bratty, like, “or you could just give me attention.”

I meeeean.

Basically.

If I haven’t made it clear enough already, I’m actually the poutiest.

weednymphos:

She’s so cute

Whineee.

I sassed Sir about bedtime and now I’ve got one tally out of eight and you don’t wanna know what happens when it gets up to eight or at least I don’t wanna tell you because eek.

Just can’t take her anywhere.

Ivy

Just another Adult Content site

brat

Whineee.