Dignity is for grown ups and real people.
Sir, making me blush.
degradation
I’ve suddenly gotten kind of interested in the kind of humiliation and degradation that has always made me so anxious in the past.
Don’t get me wrong – it still makes me anxious. But that’s weirdly part of the appeal.
Sir’s honestly a great host.
And as for me: I know my place.
What I wouldn’t do to get away and go to the beach in this weather.
I’ve been talking since the summer about the tallies and how, when I reached eight, Sir was going to make me drink a cup of my own piss. One ounce per tally.
Back in October when Sir came to visit, I was up to five tallies. Now, writing this, I am still up to five tallies. However, I’m significantly less worried about it, mostly because I’ve already drank Sir’s now. (It really kind of puts stuff in perspective?)
When he visited in October, he had me get down on my knees in the shower and drink it. He already sometimes pissed on me in the shower, but this was something I’d never done before. He’d had plenty of water beforehand, mercifully, but it wound up getting in my eyes and nose and making it hard for me to breathe. Because of that, I started laughing nervously, which may have ruined the mood a little bit.
But, yeah, drinking my own piss now? I don’t know, doesn’t seem like the biggest deal anymore.
Sometimes, I don’t even know where the line is anymore.
One day, I’m going to be brave enough to spend most of a play party like this. Just crawling after Sir, keeping quiet while he socializes and flirts, letting other people play with me to demonstrate how obedient I am.
OMG those boots! *droool*
There’s something about being told that good girls share, and then not getting any at all.
I have this fantasy a lot.
He takes a pretty girl out on a nice date and makes me wait at home. I’m allowed to touch myself when I’m home alone, but I’m not allowed to cum.
He tells me to expect them back at a certain time, but they come back about two hours late, laughing and enjoying each other. She pauses a bit when she sees me sitting on the stairs, but he just eases her down to her knees and tells her not to give me a second thought.
At first, she’s hesitant. But eventually her ego inflates, watching me sit there and squirm, and by the time they’re heading up the stairs, she yanks my hair and drags me along behind her. Or just kicks me over with her heel. Or just gives me a snide look.
I put his condom on him so he can fuck her. I get her wet for him. I sit on the side and whine and pout while he uses her the way I like to be. When he’s finished, I clean her off with my tongue. And then I’m sent to the corner to curl up and try to sleep while the two of them share the bed and laugh about how pathetic I am.
I don’t know, tumblr. I guess I’m a little messed up.
Flint likes to treat me like an animal.
He’s had me drink water out of bowls during scenes. He’s made me sit on a towel in his car so I “won’t make a mess.” And while rubbing my pussy as he drove, he’s had me look out the window and try to make eye contact with other drivers so they’ll know what kind of animal I am.
We were at my place and he was sitting in my armchair, making me straddle his leg and essentially hump it. I kept failing at finding the right angle, so I ended up grinding on his ankle and shoe more than anything else.
“Isn’t it funny?” He said, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “For a girl who hates the word ‘bitch,’ you really spend a lot of time acting like a little bitch in heat.”