Because he likes brave girls best of all.
exposure
“I can never think of you as a friend. You can do without a friend,” – Graham Greene, The End of the Affair.
Sir is considering making a rule that I get a little braver and start posting according to theme every Topless Tuesday.
Wouldn’t you all be so lucky?
Be brave.
Craftsmate says when I move, he’s going to have me install google latitude on my phone.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“It tracks your GPS location with people you share it with,” he explained. “I get to look at your little blue dot on a pretty map.”
He knows, however much I hate it, I like the idea of being observed that way. One-way glass turns me on. Being watched makes me squirm a little bit.
“Too bad I can’t have a camera follow you around.”
The camera pans around her, allowing the viewers to linger on her naked, taut body. Kidnapped for the pleasure of everyone watching online, she will find no mercy here. The muffled screams are heard only by the viewers of this cruel display.
Unable to move her limbs or move the unforgiving vibrator away at all, her only ability is to shudder and clench every muscle, feeling every orgasm tear her further away from the hope of release.
Left alone with the automated camera, there is no sign of compassion for her to cling to, and even if there is any mercy in the viewers, it is not being shown, as the chime of another donation being sent to the website is heard.
The sound delights the viewers, who all know exactly what it means. Each donation adds more time onto how long the girl will be kept like this, how much longer she will suffer the vibrators wraith.
She has no idea how much longer it will last.
Again, another donation… another hour of torment….
…It will be a long, long night.
Craftsmate saw this a coule of months and suggested that this is maybe how his Sweetheart could earn some allowance.
But little girls don’t earn allowance, silly. They just get it for being sweet, pretty little girls.
Modesty’s a sham, sweetheart. Now, smile.
Teehee.
Once a week, three friends and I meet up to watch movies. The cast of characters of the movie-watching group have wound up being:
- Craftsmate – The classmate who found my tumblr and proceeded to give me an identity crisis.
- That guy from my frat – A former hookup who has now become a rather good friend. And, much to my mixed dismay and amusement, has become friends with Craftsmate.
- The Redhead – A friend of mine who helps run a student organization with me. I have pretty solid evidence that she, along with everyone else in the room, is kinky as all get-out.
Sometimes, I glance around the room at them and try not to die from laughter or irony or whatever else. It’s strange how things work out, but I’m learning to be comfortable with the weirdness.
Life may not be that simple, but I’ve been getting a lot of love for my fear lately.
Since being discovered by a classmate and making that post about Shame, I have received some really lovely messages from some really wonderful followers about my feelings, their feelings, and how they intersect. Moreover, I’ve gotten so much love and support that my heart is literally bursting. The kindness of strangers is unfathomable. But, then again, I suppose we’re not strangers.
I’ve been talking to my anonymous classmate and he’s actually a pretty chill person. I felt bad, he felt awful after I made that Shame post. It wasn’t directed at him, but I suppose he was concerned about the whole can of worms that got opened up.
This blog will not be shut down. Identity crises come and go, but the fact is this is the only journal I’ve ever been able to commit to, I’ve come into contact with so many beautiful and fascinating people through it, and I do not want to cut this outlet from my life. Because good ol’ Donnie Darko is right. Life isn’t that simple. I can’t let the fear overwhelm me and I can’t let the love make me cocky. I have to live within the entire spectrum of human experience.
So, thank you, followers, for your love, support and empathy as I process the shame and all the yucky stuff. You are the best readers a gal could ask for.