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So I got promoted at work recently, which requires me having to learn a bunch of new stuff. Which is super cool and going to be amazing when I start taking on these new responsibilities.

But I’ve got to say that like all the emails about “Ivy’s training” and “training Ivy for her new role” and “Ivy getting the requisite training to be comfortable in her new role” are uh…doing stuff to me.

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My body looks a lot like this girl’s body more or less. Especially in the leg region. And there is something stupidly reassuring about seeing your own body in pictures on here.

I have what my boyfriend refers to as tapered thighs. I have really muscular, slim calves and then a donk and a half as far as a butt. As a result, the back of my thighs look more triangular than rectangular, so to speak. Or, at least, they aren’t straight up and down.

And to see a girl with legs like mine all tied up and giving a wicked eyefuck is pretty damn awesome. It’s like stupidly validating that my body isn’t absurd or ridiculous.

Except a certain somebody confirms that mine are more muscular. So there.

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Look at the way she dips her had back, the serene expression on her face despite the anxious tension in her hands and feet.

She’s trying to push past her doubts and expectations to allow herself to revel in it all.

I’ve been her. Over and over.

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And sometimes she bites off much more than she can chew.

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It can be so hard sometimes just to focus on your own thoughts. It’s in these moments of quiet contemplation and enforced solitude, of a self-awareness brought on by the presence of foreign sensation, that the amount of stimulus that exists surprisingly can drive you into a moment with yourself and your thoughts.

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Humbled, Part 3

Clearly, Switch had learned a bit from me tying him up. He secured my arms to the sides of the chair and my legs to its legs. That alone would have been challenging, but I figured I could wriggle out some way or another. However, he took a tie out of his closet and looped it around my neck, tying this to the chair. I could only shift myself forward maybe an inch this way. To make things even worse, he pulled out a roll of masking tape from a drawer and taped my fingers into my hands, rendering them useless. To top it off, he blindfolded me and shoved what felt like a handkerchief deep into my mouth.

“All right, babe,” I heard him unzip his pants. “You’ve got until I get off to get yourself out of there. And maybe I’ll consider having some fun with you if you do. Otherwise…” He yanked the lingerie I was wearing down as far as he could.

I groaned around the handkerchief and tried to wriggle my fingers out from under the tape. I squirmed, but he’d tried me up so snugly that I couldn’t ease myself out of my bonds. After a few minutes, he pulled the handkerchief out of my mouth and teased his cock over my lips. “How’s it going?”

“Fuck you,” I muttered and turned my head away from his cock.

He chuckled and pushed the handkerchief back into my mouth. “Better hurry up.”

I groaned and struggled, bucking against the chair to try to weaken the knots. I could hear his breathing get shallower and strained until I finally felt one of my legs get loose. I was in the middle of trying to slide my other leg with the use of my freed one when I heard Switch say, “oh, too bad, babe. You’re too late.”

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I’m busy trying to collect all my thoughts from my experiences with Switch. This photo is triggering for that. You’ll find out sometime soon.

Odds are, it’ll be organized in a bunch of little snapshots and a few longer pieces. I promise, I promise, I’ll get on with it. I just like building suspense.

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She has a set of rules to follow regarding how to sit in chairs. Perhaps they’re a little particular, but most are in the interest of posture, others aesthetic. 

When she’s caught, she’ll insist that she’s sitting up straight. She will tell you how this shows her off better, how it makes prominent the lacing of her corset or the thin fabric over her rear.

And it will all make perfect sense, but so will the added punishment of the top of the back of the chair digging into her stomach as she’s pulled up, bent over it and dealt with properly.

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I’m getting close to the final shove. I could really use someone to make me…focus. Sure, I know I need to develop that skill in myself a bit better. But, a girl can fantasize.

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I know I’ve just revealed him recently, tumblr, but the thief and I will not continue with our current arrangement. Simply put, I will not be submitting to him anymore.

It hurts the both of us, but it’s the best step right now. He has things to attend to in his current relationship and I do not want to exacerbate anything that’s going on there. He and I are still very close, still care very much about each other, etc.

My goodness, I feel like a parent explaining their divorce.

But, yeah, we’re okay on an interpersonal level. However, personally, I’m a little bit shaken up. There’s a feeling you get from submitting to someone and you get that deep. After about nine months, we had settled into a groove and had become quite attached to each other. To be totally honest, my heart is hurting.

So, you know, be a little patient with me, tumblr. I’m feeling fragile.

<3, Ivy