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I understand I get a little silly about things sometimes. Or I don’t take submitting quite as seriously as I could from time to time. Or that I look for the easy way out when it comes to punishment and discipline.

But, this I want to earn the right way. I want it to really mean something when I’m collared. I want it to be serious and wonderful and to feel proud and overwhelmed and overjoyed. And I know you know all this already, but I mean it.

I want to work for this.

p>terminalfreq:

(3) Tumblr on We Heart It. http://weheartit.com/entry/58877977/via/Alba777

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It’s always a little awkward when her old friends come over.

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seriouslysensuous:

In KLON’s Garden II

Patience is a virtue. Too bad you don’t have much virtue to speak of.

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The first night, they let her hold the bowl still. But everyone knows kitties are a little messier than that.

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Not all little girls are bashful and naive.

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Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Four 

Craftsmate reached down my stockings and removed the vibrator. He took off the clamps and rubbed some of the ache out of my nipples. He pulled my collar on before I heard the click of the leash being attached. After taking some time to pull my skirt back down and straighten out my clothing, he let my arms down. I had an opportunity to stretch them out before he locked them behind my back with a pair of handcuffs. 

“All right, let’s go,” Craftsmate said and pulled on the leash. I groaned softly and followed, stumbling a bit as I adjusted to walking with most of my senses partially or completely taken away.

He stopped and applied gentle pressure to my shoulders, encouraging me to sit on what I soon found was a chair behind me. Sitting down as well, Craftsmate looped an arm around me, rubbing my shoulder while I swore I could hear him talking to someone. The hum of conversation was around us and I hung my head, unspeakably humiliated. I could barely tell who was talking to who before he helped me back to my feet, looped an arm around my shoulder, and let me out into what I deduced was the main crowd of people.

I stumbled a bunch, shaky on my boots and practically hobbled by the idea of how many people were probably seeing me like this. I nearly knocked into someone and I heard some voice say “lovely” from behind me. I tried to convince myself that they weren’t referring to me and that this place was big enough and that maybe people were too wrapped up in their own business to notice some girl being led around the dungeon on a leash, handcuffed, hooded, blindfolded and gagged. 

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Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Two 

Craftsmate and I rounded a few corners and found a wall where two leather arm restraints hung down from two short, adjustable chains. I bit my lip nervously as he set his bag down, but tried to act a bit cavalier as I approached the chains.

I backed up carefully against the wall, raising my arms up and smiling playfully. “All right, I’m ready.”

“Sweetheart,” he replied with a smirk, “I think I want you facing the wall.”

Blushing, I turned on my heel before he seized my arms up and started securing them into the cuffs. 

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True story: I think about being the party bitch sometimes. Having things served off of me, carrying trays, being forbidden from wearing a single stitch of clothing. I’d simultaneously enjoy and despise being left to the whims of a nicely dressed, otherwise bored gathering of people.

nanking-decade:

She hates being thrown into the pot as collateral, since he wasn’t a good poker player to begin with.