I’ve always been a bit shaky on boundaries.
So come a little closer.
It’s not crossing the line when I’ve redrawn the line.
fingers in mouth
Chained, Part Eight
Once I had reached my limit of being flogged, caned and spanked, Penthouse brought me down onto my knees on the floor in front of them. “Do you want some time alone with her?” He asked as Popcorn sat down on the floor across from me.
“Yeah,” she said. “Would you mind?"
"Not at all,” he replied, “you okay with that, Ivy?” He looked to me and I nodded, a blush rising in my cheeks. I had not been dominated by a woman in quite a while and the idea of being alone with her was equally exciting and scary. I barely knew this girl, but I thought well of her and was glad I had met her on a vanilla level first. That, at least, made things a little less strange and feel a little safer.
Penthouse left the room and Popcorn picked my blindfold up from the table, buckling it over my eyes. She wiped some drool from the corner of my gag with her thumb and I blushed even deeper.
“Do you like playing with girls?” She asked as she eased the front of my nightgown down, exposing my breasts.
“Mmhmmm,” I replied around the ballgag, nodding.
She pulled a bit lower and I knew she could see the vague traces of the ‘whore’ that had been traced into my stomach. I heard her chuckle and turned my head away, somewhat ashamed, until her fingers clamped down on my left nipple. Her free hand rose to my right shoulder as if to will me to face her, even if I could not see her.
There was a moment where I could feel myself shaking against her and realized that she was shaking, too. Her hand was trembling against my already trembling shoulder. The idea that we were both a little nervous, I don’t know. There was something kind of beautiful and sort of intimate about it.
She played with my nipples for a bit before I heard her take out her phone. A few minutes later, Penthouse came back in and asked if she had enjoyed herself.
“Oh, definitely,” she replied, “I’m just not sure what to do with her nipples.”
“Oh,” Penthouse answered and I could hear him crossing the room. “Here, let me show you something fun.”
I had expressed to Penthouse before my trip that I was into being imposingly touched right before I went to sleep. It was more of a situation where I would be sent to bed and the other party would climb in behind me, wrap an arm around me and touch as if I wasn’t trying to sleep. It started here, when Switch had me tied up during the whole abduction thing and started groping me.
Penthouse and I went over safe words, a necessity if you’re playing around with concepts of feigned reluctance or consensual nonconsent, and tried the same thing.
Except, I wasn’t tied up. So, I could playfully try to swat him away and tease him by rubbing back up against him immediately after. And then whine and pout when he persisted anyway and rubbed my pussy through my panties, squeezed my breasts through my shirt, slipped his fingers into my mouth.
“I’m trying to sleep,” I huffed as he pulled my panties aside, “you’re being too handsy.”
He hushed me and murmured in my ear, “then sleep, I’ll just take what I want.” He dragged his thumb over my wet slit.
Naturally, I didn’t go to sleep.
“I was taught that at the heart of all people, all things, lay raw self-interest. Sure, you could dress a person up nice, put pretty words in his mouth, but underneath the silk tie and pressed shirt was an animal. A territorial, hungry animal anxious to satisfy his own needs,“ Megan Mayhew Bergman, Birds of a Lesser Paradise.
Meet Switch, Part Three
Switch pulled me over his lap, raising a knee so my ass was pushed up into the air. His fingers laced through my hair and pulled my head up sharply. He leaned down to kiss me roughly.
“Your mouth tastes like pussy,” I grinned and he shoved my head back down onto the bed.
He traced his fingers down to my slit and rubbed up and down a few times. I was still a little tender from having just cum twice from him going down on me and I sucked in a deep breath when he shoved a finger inside of me.
“Well, your pussy tastes so good, baby, I think you should have some more,” he pulled his finger out of my cunt and moved it in front of my face. “Go on. Taste yourself.”
I leaned my head forward and took his finger into my mouth. Masquerading a smirk behind pursed lips, I started to bring my head up and down on his finger as if I were sucking it off.
“Goddamn,” he murmured as I sucked. “You’re a little slut, aren’t you?” I winked over his finger. He pulled his finger from my mouth and smacked my ass hard. “You little fucking tease, I think it’s time to put you in your place.”
I can be worshipful. I can put you up on an altar. I can make it about you, just you, just what you are to me and what you do to me and what you want from me.
Because you worship me, too. Not in a servile way. But when you make me yours, it’s worship. The way you touch me is worship. The second you hold my cheek after you’ve smacked it, the way your fingers find their way into my mouth from there, it’s praise for what I’ve allowed you to do. It’s due to the awe within you that I’ve inspired from enjoying it.
Let’s offer ourselves to each other. Let’s reduce ourselves to supplication. I want you to make me feel holy.
I’m just the teensiest bit orally fixated. And I love the feeling of being used and owned that accompanies having fingers shoved into my mouth. It shows this very blatant disregard for boundaries that kind of emphases the position of subordination I am being placed into.
