At least they left a toy.
Y’know.
In case she gets bored.
(Image submitted by nanking-decade to make me blush.)
collar
It’s really so easy to confuse indignation for repentance in a brat.
Such a surly expression. Maybe I should leave you blindfolded, gagged, and on the hardwood floor next time.
Santa has a way of rewarding the naughty ones who never got their Christmas puppies when they were children.
Tis the season!
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Ho.Ho.
Meow.
Penthouse and I tried puppy play.
The encounter was brief and it made me blush like no other.
My hands were taped up, my legs were folded double as to force me to hobble around on my knees, I was leashed and collared.
I haven’t had a lot of experience with the act and I’ve always been a little ashamed to admit that I like it.
But I really, really liked it.
The first time she tried to bring the crop over, she used her hands.
She’s been trained a little better now.
Chained, Part Nine
I heard the tell-tale rattle of clothespins on a line and whined a bit into my gag. Penthouse had grabbed the zipper off of the desk and from my soon-to-be-proven-correct assumption, handed it off to Popcorn.
“What you do,” he explained, placing a hand on my shoulder, “is you just put them all over on her breasts, then yank the end of the string, and they all come off.”
Popcorn was a little ruthless. She went excruciatingly slow, debating out where each one should go, so I was stuck sitting with two particularly harsh ones near the skin over my collarbones. Eventually, I couldn’t take it and just hit the buzzer.
They took care to remove the blindfold and the gag, making sure I was all right, and took off the clothespins gently by hand. I was a little disappointed I hadn’t had the guts to ride it out, but I figured it was better to know my limits.
Penthouse untied my legs and I got up to my feet, adjusting my nightgown and giving Popcorn a hug. We thanked each other for a fun experience and she left, having somewhere else to go.
Chained, Part One
Penthouse likes to make collars. He braids leather and they look cute, pretty, unintimidating. I like that. The last collar I wore had the word “bitch” on it and I sort of hated it.
He made mine red and purple, two of my favorite colors. It fit comfy and had a little d-ring to attach a leash, which made me blush like no other. By having me help him put the final clasp on, Penthouse really made me feel like it was mine. Which I liked. A lot.
After buckling the collar on me, he had me put on this little nightgown that I brought which is actually a size large shirt from Forever 21 that was five bucks. Call me ridiculous, but I thought the pattern was cute and I tried it on and figured I could pass it off as a nightgown. It covers my ass and, while it’s too loose to be a dress, it’s cute and precious and so little as a nightgown.
In the nightgown and with the collar on, I was already blushing so hard my cheeks burned. But, when he took out a length of chain and clipped one end to his bed-frame, I just about lost it.
It’s hard when no one is there to take hold of the lead, to hook their finger through the ring, to pull you to your knees. When all your body seems programmed for such a thing sometimes, the absence of it can feel unnatural. And how strange, you’ll think, when such a preference is considered so unusual.
Sometimes, she tried to be coy and hide herself away. That was remedied fairly easily.