Cats Don’t Do the Dishes, Part Seven

Once he had finished flogging me, Craftsmate reached up and tilted his lamp so the light hit my cunt. Pulling up a chair, he sat down in front of me and calmly pulled my labia apart. He picked up a roll of duct tape and started to tape me open, securing my labia to the inside of my thighs.

“What are you doing?” I mumbled around the gag. He ignored me and started to tease his fingers over my terribly exposed pussy.

Eventually, he picked up a knife and traced the dull end over my labia, slit and clitoris. I practically jumped through the roof, unable to contain myself as he continued to violate my helpless pussy with his fingers and the knife. I shuddered every time he pushed the dull end against me, my eyes wide and my fingers fluttering uselessly in their bonds.

Flash Forward #4

Craftsmate and I come home from a party only to immediately head into my bedroom. He asks me what I want to do and I shrug, lying back on my bed. Suddenly, a smirk crosses his lips and he picks up my razor.

“Do you want to tonight?” he asks.

We had been talking about him shaving my pussy for a few weeks now. I have never had anyone shave it before and the idea was really exciting for me, but both of our schedules had been busy until this point, with the semester being over.

We put down a towel on my bed and he fills a cup with water. I decide to put some music on and take my clothes off, lying down on the towel. He strips down as well, grabs my sewing scissors and positions himself between my legs.

“I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but your pussy’s really cute,” he says as he starts to trim the excess hair away.

He’s meticulous, which starts to work me up. Every so often, he sets the scissors down to rub his thumb over my clit. I alternate between singing along to the music, begging him to just put the scissors down and touch me, and grinding up against his thumb.

I get more desperate when he finishes trimming, pours the cold water onto my pussy and starts to spread shaving cream over my shivering body. However, he continues to take his time, carefully drawing the razor over my lips and mound in slow, deliberate strokes.

When he finishes, Craftsmate teases his fingers over my now smooth, bare lips. He picks up some lotion and starts to rub it onto my pussy when I say, “I think I need some here.” I gesture to my clit and he chuckles.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, lowering his lips over my clit. I nod eagerly but he tilts his head, kissing up my thigh instead.

I whine and try to arch myself up to meet his mouth, but he persists. By the time he finally indulges me, I am almost too delirious to acknowledge it right away.

I realized that I never actually mentioned what happened with that guy from my frat beyond a sentence in some post. Mostly because I was a little conflicted about it, but I feel sort of equipped to share now.

Simply put: it was a really hot but really confusing encounter. And most of the people I have told about it agree with the hot stuff and don’t totally understand why I’m all hung up on random details.

Call me a traditional sap, but the asshole don’t kiss me.

To be fair, it didn’t fit in completely with what we were doing. He came home with me and one of my friends had fallen asleep on my carpet. So we were sort of quietly sitting up on my bed and talking.

It’s been a while, so I forget the context, but I remember telling him that I didn’t know how to place him because I didn’t know what he wanted.

“You know what I want,” he said, “but it’s more fun not giving myself that.”

And he held me down, eased my skirt up, and proceeded to edge me like I never have been before. He was firm but still sensual. The whole time I was desperately attempting to stay quiet and, just as I was teetering right at the edge, he stopped. He grinned, pulled the sheets up, and tucked me in.

“See?” I could see his smirk in the darkness. “It’s a lot more fun when I just tease you.”

And he left. I laid there in shock for a while, frustrated and awed.

On a ton of levels, I find that whole interaction incredibly hot. But I guess there’s still part of me that’s stupidly hung up on insecurities that he must not respect me, even when I know that isn’t true.

Humbled, Part 10

I had puddled onto the sheets by the time Switch was finished with me. He had hit all the points he knew got me off, played every card in his hand, but still kept me teetering on the edge. By the time he removed the gag and asked me how I was doing, I was spent.

“I’m…I’m just…” I couldn’t finish. My voice was something between a moan and a whine.

He chuckled and traced his finger up and down my slit. “Are you sorry?”

I nodded. “I’m so, so sorry,” I mumbled into the pillow, “I’m so sorry.”

I felt him reach up and start to untie my wrists. “what a good girl. Maybe I’ll let you cum after work.” He removed the blindfold and chuckled, leaning down and kissing my shoulder-blade. “Now get yourself together and go take a shower.”

She’ll claim she just fell asleep that way. But you could hear that telltale contrived breathing of feigned sleep the second you walked into the room. You could see the stiffness in her limbs. You could see the twitch of a smile repressed as she heard you cross to the side of the bed. And, of course, if you were still in doubt, there’s always the pouring that will ensue when you apologize, tell her to go back to sleep, and turn to leave the room.

Humbled, Part 8

I cannot describe how difficult it can be to sleep unfulfilled like that. Especially when relief is lying next to you, doing nothing to help.

I managed to sleep until some strange hour of the morning where there was no sunlight attempting to come through the blindfold. Attempting to maybe break Switch’s resolve, I started to slide against him just so.

“Go back to sleep, Ivy,” he murmured, not lifting a finger.

I sighed and pressed myself back against him. “What am I doing?”

“Ivy,” he sounded like he was trying to coax a child away from the dessert in the refrigerator. There was amusement in his condescension. “I told you, tomorrow morning. Keep pushing and I’ll make it tomorrow afternoon.”

“Keep pushing what?” I could barely contain a chuckle.

Switch reached around me and pinched my nipple through the fabric of the lingerie, “keep pushing my patience and you’ll be demoted to fucktoy.”

“Demoted?” I feigned shock, “do I still keep my benefits?”

He laughed softly, “you are so fucked tomorrow, Ivy. If you think tonight was rough, you are so fucked tomorrow. Now go to sleep, you little slut.“

Humbled, Part 7

When he had finished with me, Switch allowed me a drink of water and untied my hands. He made me keep the outfit on when I brushed my teeth and got ready to go to sleep. When I came back in to his bedroom, he put my blindfold back on and led me back over to his bed. My exposed ass was still sore when he sat me down on it to tie my arms in front and my legs together.

I still had not gotten off and, while it was not the first time I had slept in his bed tied up, it was the first time he had made me go to sleep without letting me cum. “But, I was a good girl,” I insisted when he made me lie down.

“So?” he chuckled and traced his fingers up my thigh to the lace at the hem of my outfit. I shivered under his touch.

“So, I want to cum,” I pouted, “I want you to untie my legs right now and make me cum.”

I heard him turn off the light and felt him climb into bed beside me. Unlike the last time, he didn’t touch me beyond looping an arm around me and pulling me close. “I said maybe in the morning.”

“That’s too long,” I huffed.

I heard the smile in his voice. “Good night, Ivy.”

Humbled, Part 2

I was wearing something that I knew would get to him. Mostly lace, a little bit of ribbon, vaguely apron-inspired with nothing in the back but a pink bow to hold it to my body. When he noticed me in the doorway, he did a double-take and gave me a look that could really only be described as ravenous.

“I don’t know what you’re looking at, bitch, this isn’t for you,” I said and crossed by him. I guess you can say that maybe I was provoking him a bit. I don’t know. Part of me wanted to keep up the dominant act and part of me wanted to see if he would just overtake me.

I was still surprised when one of his arms shot around my waist and his other hand settled on my throat. I pulled against him, he pulled the arm around my waist tighter. “I don’t know what makes you think you can talk to me that way, but this is fucking overwith,” he pushed me down into the chair he was sitting in, the same I had tied him to earlier. “I think it’s time you remember where your place is.

Humbled, Part 1

I had been messing around with something I enjoyed from the submission end: denial. Switch said he liked the idea of it. I guess he didn’t realize how mean I could be.

One morning, I tied him to the chair in front of his desk. One benefit of having been tied up so much is I know what works and what’s challenging. “If you can get out by the time I’ve finished my hair, I’ll think about letting you cum,” I said. He looked cocky. I’m sure he figured he was strong enough to just break right out. Unfortunately, he underestimated the power of well-tied knots and cinching.

When we messed around, I didn’t let him finish. To his credit, he didn’t complain. I’m usually a massive whiner. Apparently, he was actually really enjoying this. So, I got confident and started pushing how mean I could get. I wasn’t awful. I just spent a day or two getting him close and not getting him off whenever we hooked up. And then I would tease him about it.

So, the day I got what was coming to me, I decided to be extra cruel. And that’s probably why I got what was coming to me.

Meet Switch, Part Eight

One minute in and he was literally panting. He kept tensing harder to keep from moving. He was soaking precum through his boxers by two minutes. The entire time he was just begging.

I just watched the clock. Intermittently, I reassured him that he was being a good boy, that he was making Pretty so, so proud. I reused phrases I knew worked on me when I was being denied. I used a few unique ones.

“You want to make Pretty happy, don’t you?” I asked him at thirty seconds before time would be up, when he was just about losing it. “You’re so close, don’t fail me now, baby. That would be sad.”

He gritted his teeth and took it. It’s strange to me that in this moment of weakness and submission I figured him to be stronger than I’d ever considered him. It was in how resolute he was being, in how hard he was sincerely trying to please me.

His cock practically hit me in the face when I leaned down and pulled down his boxers. He moved when I put him in my mouth, letting a hand settle in my hair. But, I wasn’t cruel enough to take his reward away. He’d earned it well.