Sweetheart learns the tough lesson that asking to be on top doesn’t necessarily imply being in control.
cuffs
Just reblogging to say that the source is this photo is actually the incredibly talented photographer, Insuh Yoon, and that the model is the indescribably beautiful HardHoney/Belliehops.
Credit where credit is due, yo.
Also the little hairs on the back of her thigh are beyond charming. I dig.
I’m not sure how I would handle being made to go to a party, looking totally normal, save for the bare feet and the cuffs on my ankles. I’m not entirely certain that I would be capable of maintaining eye contact or coherent speech.
Craftsmate tied me up like this once and I soaked right through my panties.
Just thought I’d share, okay?
I’ve never been particularly enthusiastic about harnesses.
But, seeing them from this angle may have given me a change of heart.
“Time’s up!” He said, with a certain smug satisfaction,
before pushing her over onto her side
with his foot.
These are the sorts of games I’m never sure if I want to win or lose.
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.
I’ve never been really enthusiastic about ponyplay, but the look of pride on her face and the pride in her posture really attracts me to this. She’s totally unashamed of what she likes. I’m wee bit envious.
There’s something about the word bitch.
Slut, whore, words like that, they all tend to have a lot more accountability. A lot more agency. They seem to be a direct result of the things you choose to do and you sort of own them. My reactions to being called these words during play usually have a degree of smugness to them. It’s an accusation of being the sort of person who enjoys this stuff. And I’m confirming it.
But, bitch, I don’t know. It’s rougher. It screams ownership, subjugation. It reduces you to something animal-like, primal, something that relies on just instinct and physical cues. Simpler thoughts and more visceral reactions usually accompany being called this or having to call myself this.
I guess I should clarify that I kind of love/hate/love the word bitch.
I love when people just play around with my body like that. Pinching nipples, playing with hair, all of that. I guess because I kind of feel like a toy. There’s a harsh way of being used, but then there’s a casual way. And it can be just as effective.