Well, I’m going away for the weekend.

Catch you all on Monday.

Try and behave while I’m gone.

“We sat in the car
& the night dropped
down until the
only sounds were
the crickets &
the dance of our voices

& for a moment
the world became
small enough to
roll back & forth
between us.”

– Brian Andreas, Hearing Voices.

This is the story of the thief and the girl he took home to his partner-in-crime.

It’s such a shame. I have a horrible tendency to root for the villain.

I just wanted to say a huge thank you for all the support I got for posting my car story. It’s always a mixture of exhibitionistic glee and general anxiety to put stuff like that up, but for all the people who were sending me love about the posts of it that I had queued while I was away, thank you so very much. You make the sharing feel so natural and so worth it.

The Infamous Car Story, Part 5

Continued from here.

I had barely processed what my boyfriend had said when he landed a rather harsh smack on my ass. He has these hands. I can’t really explain it. They were maybe about average sized, but for some reason the force of blows he delivered distributed itself within them horribly. For this reason, he usually used his non-dominant hand and reserved her dominant one for appropriate occasions. And, even so, he could only get one or two hits in with that hand before it simply became unbearable.

This was one of those occasions.

I cried out, bucking against the armrest as the blow landed. My entire ass stung, the pain practically radiating after where he hit in violent heat. Elle’s fingers on my clit pushed together and pinched it, eliciting a series of squirms that melted into exhausted groaning.

“Did it feel good, sweetie?” Elle asked. I could barely muster words, but I had certainly been tugged out of any sort of post-orgasmic bliss and back into the real world. “I bet you’re mighty thirsty right now from all the screaming, hm?”

Apparently, I’d screamed. I nodded feebly and received a smack from what was thankfully my boyfriend’s non-dominant hand, “answer her correctly.”

“Yes, Miss,” I choked out. Now using words, I realized that my throat did feel raw. I hoped no one had heard me. But, from the absence of any sirens or bright lights, I assumed we would be fine.

My boyfriend patted my ass with a smile, “maybe we should go get her something to eat. Seeing as it’s all about little fucking Ivy’s needs tonight.” I hated that taunting. They knew I hated it. If they would have let me, I would have gone down on them. I would have pleasured them. But, they were intentionally denying themselves and then blaming me for it. The effect was immensely frustrating.

Elle’s hand slipped from my clit and up to my ass, “you hungry, dear?” I shook my head and practically buried my face in the cup-holder when my boyfriend offered, “I think my little brat wants ice cream.”

At the time, little girl play was something he had started to bring up and it was something I was reluctant to try. Respecting my wishes against a foray into it, he simply resorted to taunting me with it whenever he could. I groaned felt a blush rising in my cheeks.

Elle’s hand left my ass for a second before colliding with it once more, “is that it, honey? Do you want ice cream on your special little night where you get whatever you want?”

“I guess,” I shrugged.

My boyfriend smacked my ass again. Hard. “You guess?”

“Someone’s mighty ungrateful,” Elle chimed in.

I shook my head, “I…I mean, if you guys want to.”

“You guys?” My boyfriend landed a few more spanks, “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are.”

“I’m…I’m sorry,” I choked out, “Sir, um, MIss, do you want to?”

Elle laughed, “Ivy, we asked you. And since tonight is all about you…”

“I’ll make you cum. Both of you. Really.”

“Don’t fucking interrupt, Ivy,” she smacked up near the top of my ass again, causing me to cry out, “I don’t think so, dear. We wouldn’t want to be selfish on your special little night. And it isn’t even all about you, is it? It’s about this.” She flicked her thumb over my clit before continuing, “but I’d like to know if the little whore attached to this cunt would like to get ice cream.” I went to open my mouth and she slipped her other hand over it, “and before you answer, Ivy, I want you to remember some things. I’m helping you out here. I’m being your best fucking friend. So don’t you forget manners. And if you don’t give me a definitive answer, I swear to God.”

She removed her hand and I answered, “yes, Miss, I would like to get ice cream. Thank you.”

“Good girl,” my boyfriend sneered behind me, “and where are we going?”

“I don’t…” I began and before I could even finish they had started to spank me again. by now, my ass was raw, tender. I could practically feel how red it was and how badly it had begun to sting. My eyes were watering up with tears when I finally picked a nearby place.

“And what are you going to get?” Elle asked.

I bit my lower lip, “I forget what it’s called.”

The barrage of spanks that followed from both of them was dizzying. “How did you forget that?” Smack. Smack. “I don’t know, really.” Smack. “I think she just wants this.” Smack. “She’s holding out clearly.” Smack. Smack. “You’re only making this worse for yourself, slut.” It continued. I could barely think.

“I don’t know,” I finally blurted out, “but it has nuts in it.” I practically yelled it. The spanking stopped. There was a long silence and I assumed they were looking at each other before they both burst out laughing.

They only untied me once we reached the place and allowed me the opportunity to straighten out my hair before we walked into the shop. It was basically empty and, as I walked, I felt the sting in my ass. They both smirked at me when I asked the guy behind the counter what the name of the one with the nuts in it was.

Overcome by curiosity, I excused myself to the bathroom. Once inside, I turned, lifted up my skirt, and looked over my shoulder into the mirror.

To be continued.

The Infamous Car Story, Part 4

Continued from here.

I blushed furiously at his comment before letting out another moan in response to Elle’s tongue on my nipple. They both let out a mutual chuckle and I felt my cheeks redden even more. My boyfriend kept my head held back, occasionally tweaking or pinching my nipple when he saw fit.

I thought about what my boyfriend had said. It was true. I absolutely loved being the center of attention in this sort of scenario. I loved feeling more than one pair of hands on me, more than one pair of eyes. I loved to know that the two participants were eagerly lusting after me. I loved seeing the two work together to tease, to explore, to enjoy. And, eventually, to make me climax.

My boyfriend spun me on his lap so I faced him, my nipple popping from Elle’s mouth. “You haven’t even made an effort to please us, you know,” he said.

I shrugged, “well, my hands are tied and you keep putting fingers in my mouth.” I felt Elle’s hand collide with the upper portion of my ass check. The part that hurts marginally more than the part that’s typically hit. I groaned as she told me to stop making excuses.

But, my boyfriend just smirked, “you want this to be all about Ivy? Fine, you whore, it’s going to be all about Ivy.” He pushed me back down over the armrest and I nearly bumped my nose on the cupholder. “It’s going to be all about what little fucking Ivy wants.” He smacked my cunt hard, “but it’s also going to be all about making Ivy suffer to get it.”

I yelped as Elle smacked her hand square over where my boyfriend had just hit. He reached around me, fanning his fingers over my face before letting them branch over it and cover my mouth. “Feel nice, slut? This is why I need to get you a muzzle. I know for a fact you like the way it feels."

I groaned against his hand and shook my head. The muzzle had been brought up a few times in the past as a potential plaything, but I had been quick to dismiss it as too animal-esque for me. I knew he didn’t want to put it on me because he wanted dogs, but I also knew that I wasn’t entirely sure how If felt about being presented in a way that reminded me of them.

Also, the general idea of that style of gag frightened me. The criss-crossing of straps over my cheeks, the feeling of my mouth being that covered, the buckles heavy and tight against the back of my head. It was a bit too containing, too restrictive for my liking. And, yet, somehow that also intrigued me terribly.

I realized how transparent I could be in this position. I was clearly getting wetter from his hands on my face that way and Elle’s occasional slaps to my ass. I could basically smell myself in the car, something I’m sure Elle and my boyfriend shared. I was an open book. I was exposed. I was open.

Elle tore my panties down roughly before beginning to rub my clit, "don’t like it, dear? I don’t see how you can’t. It’s even got a nice sound to it. Muzzle.”

I moaned against my boyfriend’s fingers and shook my head. He lifted his hands from me only to replace one at the back of my neck. “I don’t…I don’t like…” I could barely get the words out. I attempted a few more times before resigning to enjoying the feeling between my legs.

My boyfriend’s free hand settled down near Elle’s as he started to tease over my lips with his fingers. He chuckled, leaning down close to my ear, “you don’t even care anymore, do you? We could put you on a fucking leash and walk you around and you wouldn’t care as long as you get your pussy rubbed, huh? Everything else just fades away.”

“Always so simple-minded, Ivy,” Elle joined in, “such a one-track mind you’ve got. The second a hand goes down there you completely lose track of everything else."

I felt myself blush, but they were right. I didn’t care. My thoughts seemed to be pin-holed to one idea, one desire. I came to the sound of them continuing to taunt me, though I could barely process their words. I bucked against the armrest, crying out and completely forgetting the cars that zoomed by.

I came out of it dazed. The effect was dizzying. I continued to squirm and shake with the "after shocks”. They smiled, they chuckled, they waited for me to at least remotely come back before my boyfriend snapped, “did we say you could cum?"

To be continued.

Well, followers, I’ve flown the coop and left the country.

Not to worry. I’m just here for my summer internship and I am not totally sure how reliable the Internet will be (if I get any). But, I made sure to stock my queue, so it’ll almost be like I’ve never gone.

<3, Ivy

The Infamous Car Story, Part 3

Continued from here.

My boyfriend pulled me back up so I was sitting between them. He wrapped an arm around me before sinking a few fingers in my mouth. As I sucked on them, trying to shoot the sweetest little expression over to Elle to avoid anything too harsh, she set to pulling down my top so the straps rested below my shoulders and the neckline sat below my breasts.

She leaned forward and started to kiss at and suck on my neck. Her hands rested on my breasts and she squeezed gently before pulling them out of the cups of my bra. She rubbed them around, chuckling against my neck each time I moaned around his fingers. Her nails scraped over my nipples and her teeth slid over the side of my neck.

He withdrew his fingers from my mouth and let his hand wander down to my breast. His hand passed under Elle’s and he gripped my right nipple before starting to twist it. I cried out loudly and Elle raised her hand up to my mouth, pushing my head against my boyfriend’s chest while she muffled my cry.

Her other hand set to work on the other nipple. She pinched, causing me to writhe against my boyfriend’s form as I tried to wriggle my wrists out of my stockings. They continued like this for a while. Pinching, pulling, twisting. All the time I whined and pouted and wriggled about, hoping they would bring me to orgasm sometime soon.

Elle smiled up at my boyfriend as she gave a particularly hard tug before saying, “I love those breasts of hers.” She leaned forward and sucked my nipple into her mouth.

My boyfriend chuckled as I moaned against Elle’s hand and gently removed her hand from my mouth. He then reached back, grabbing my head by the hair and tilting my head back, “you love this, don’t you?” He smirked and continued, “you love all these eyes on you. These hands. You don’t even care how badly it hurts.”

He was right.

To be continued.

I finally got up the courage to check my grades today and (not to brag but) it’s my best semester yet. I was incredibly worried about this one class, but it turns out I did really well in it. Relieved doesn’t even begin to describe it.

So, I’m planning to celebrate tonight. If only one of my friends had a convertible.

valeire:

Photo: Ellen Von Unwerth

The Infamous Car Story, Part 2

Continued from here.

Elle climbed into the back seat, sitting to my left. I was between them now, my body bucking lightly from the orgasm I had just been denied. I managed to regain some control before Elle reached up and pushed me forward, bending me over the padded armrest in the front. My face was nearly in the cup holders. I tried to push myself back up, but my boyfriend’s hand shot to the back of my head and pressed me back down.

“We can’t do this here,” I insisted as Elle pushed my skirt up around my waist. “What if someone sees?” I had decided to abandon the cause of the fact that it was odd that the three of us were performing the act together and instead focused on something a little less grey as my argument. “We can’t do this in public.”

He pulled my panties aside and swept a finger down over my slit. I shivered as he said, “don’t even pretend this is your first time playing around in a car.” I whined softly as he pulled his hand back from my wet cunt. He removed his hand from the back of my head.

Elle’s quickly replaced it, her fingers grasping firmly at my hair to hold me down. “I know for a fact it isn’t.” She leaned down, biting on my earlobe before whispering, “So why are you being such a brat about this?”

I tried to pick my head up and groaned, “Elle, I…” I shrieked as my boyfriend’s hand collided with my pussy. He had these large hands and a way of hitting incredibly hard without really trying.

“I don’t think that’s the proper way to address her tonight,” he rubbed his hand over my soaked mound with a chuckle before gathering my wrists in his hands. “Got anything to tie them with?"

At the prospect of this, I panicked. My legs twisted against the seats in an effort to try to give what was at least a playful kick to one of their sides. Elle reached in front of me and into her purse. She rummaged around for a bit before replying, "no, I don’t think so.” I let out a sigh of relief. Outside, I heard cars continue to speed by and tried to keep my head low.

“Wait a minute,” I heard my boyfriend say. He let go of my wrists and I heard him unbuckle my bag. Suddenly, I felt nylon around my wrists. Fuck. I’d been wearing stockings earlier that day, as per his request, and removed them when the weather was too warm.

He tied them tightly, cinching a few times before tucking the knot inside as to make any effort at their removal rather difficult. I whimpered as Elle set to teasing my clit with the pad of her thumb while my boyfriend returned his hold to the back of my head to keep my face down. “Please, I just want to cum,” I pleaded.

Elle chuckled, “aw, we know, babe.” She adjusted my panties so they covered me again and I whined softly. She had a way of making things drag unbearably. “You make it so obvious."

Suddenly, she yanked the waistband of my panties up, exposing my rear, and clapped her other hand against my left cheek roughly. My boyfriend followed suit with the right. I practically leapt out of the sunroof, crying out and bucking against the armrest. They continued for a few minutes before Elle insisted, "this isn’t right at all. I should be hearing counting. And thank yous.”

My boyfriend smacked my right side again and I panted out a, “one, thank you, Sir.”

Elle hit the left. “One. Thank you, Miss.”

Another to the left. “Two. Thank you, Miss.”

Then the right. “Two. Thank you, Sir.”

It continued that way for a while. Occasionally, they would switch the side they spanked without telling me. His hits were harder, and they laughed each time I correctly guessed that he had moved to the other side when I grunted out a pained, “thank you, Sir.” Whenever I guessed the hitter wrong, the next hit would be square on my panty-covered pussy.

Elle broke the rhythm eventually, hitting me so many times in succession that I simply could not keep track. I slumped against the armrest. My head was starting to feel light. My ass was stinging. My pussy was throbbing.

“What number are you up to, slut?” She asked, giving my ass another smack as if to rouse me from my stupor.

I shook my head and whispered, “I don’t know, Miss.”

“You don’t know?” she repeated back to me as if she were speaking to a child. “Well, that’s no good at all.”

To be continued.