fishnets

The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Seven

So, I should explain first of all what I’d been wearing this time. Partially, to slightly put off what our plans were. I had this piece of lingerie on that’s basically a sexy parody of an apron, along with a pair of fishnet thigh highs and a pair of black heels. (Yeah okay not totally sure why I’m explaining this because there’s a photo right there but…) I was also wearing my new cuffs and my training collar.

So, Sir and I had arranged to Skype with the Southern Gentleman to discuss our upcoming threesome. However, the whole matter of discussing it would be rather limited. When I sat down beside Sir as we waited for SG to join us, he clipped my cuffs together behind my back and slipped my bit gag between my teeth. As much as I squirmed and pouted, I couldn’t deny how immensely aroused I was and how I was sort of relieved that I wouldn’t be forced to actually speak.

Sir tilted the laptop so that I was out of the frame when he called up SG. The two greeted each other and talked briefly. I felt drool welling up between my lips and the gag, and I began to whine when it dripped down my chin. SG must have heard me, because he asked Sir how their “friend” was doing.

Sir grinned. “Would you like to see her?” He turned the laptop so that the camera was facing me. I felt my cheeks burn and instinctively turned my face away, shrinking back into the corner of the couch.

Sir snatched onto my shoulder and turned me so that I faced the camera. SG’s side kept cutting out, but I saw a brief smirk that made me attempt to hide my face again.

“Don’t be shy,” Sir ordered, holding onto my chin. “Be a sweet girl, he’s here to see you. Look at the camera like a good girl.”

I squeezed my eyes shut before taking a deep breath. I felt my drool drip onto my knee and slowly, tentatively, I looked into the camera.

So, I might have a little surprise planned for him today.

Shhh.

Happy spankings sound like lots of fun

But I’m way too much of a pouty girl.

This kitty gets to be reunited with her tail during this visit. And she miiiight just have a new set of ears from her Daddy to match.

I don’t think you’re gonna make it to work today, Daddy.

I’m usually pretty awful at routines, confessedly. But, Craftsmate’s developed one lately that’s managed to somehow fix my horrible sleep patterns and drive me completely insane. Essentially, since Sunday, he’s been having me come over to his place at night, strip down to my panties and a t-shirt, and lie on his bed with my face down and my ass in the air.

I have to pull my panties down and wait while Craftsmate takes his sweet time applying lubricant to my asshole and his fingers. First with one finger, then two, he gently starts probing and thrusting into my asshole. Sometimes, he will rub my clit, but he’ll never let me cum. He does this with a rubber glove on, knowing that it only adds to the humiliation of the entire ordeal for me. Because, yes, I find the whole anal inspection thing to be completely humiliating.

When he has finished, he blindfolds me and has me pull my panties back up. Then, he puts me into the crotchrope arrangment he did on Sunday – with my wrists tied at my sides and the tiniest bit of slack to helplessly flutter my hands on either side of my pussy in an attempt to relieve myself. He teases me for a little while before tucking me in and leaving me there to go do work or watch television.

By the time he comes to bed, I’ve fallen asleep that way: bound, blindfolded, teased, always vaguely aware of the push of the knot in the crotchrope against my clit. In the morning, he teases me a bit more, unties me and only removes the blindfold after he has inspected how wet I had gotten during the night.

I don’t know how long this routine is going to last and I kind of like how much I simultaneously despise and enjoy it. Every morning I ask him if that was the last time and try to convince him that I’ve learned my lesson, but part of me is almost relieved when he tells me no and informs me of what time he expects me that night.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go blush for about six years after sharing this.

whyexactly:

Sometimes rope pulls

tighter on your mind

than it does on your skin.

Both Craftsmate and Penthouse had expressed to me that they were not particularly into knives or knifeplay when I first met them.

Today, both of them texted me on separate occasions to let me know that this is no longer the case. They’re in deep enough that Penthouse has kindled a book on it.

And apparently this is all my fault.

Sorry I’m not sorry?

quantumsatis:

I like to engage in acts of creative destruction. Never to truly hurt you but rather to startle you into feeling alive.

Photo (by {E}mma)

I have off-handedly mentioned on here a few times my freckle. It’s kind of famous.

However, recently, it’s gotten larger and darker. To the point that it’s still kind of cute but people constantly confuse it with dirt or food or other random smudges on my face. Lately, I have been trying to hide it with makeup, something I never did before. Just because I was tired of people trying to pick it off of my face.

So, I recently went and saw a dermatologist and she was all about slicing it out to make sure it’s nothing too bad and was like, “oh, I can do it right now if you want and you’ll just be swollen for a week and blah blah also you’ll have a scar and we’re going to need to biopsy it.”

I told her to slow down and made an appointment for next week. Honestly, I’m a little sad to have to see my signature freckle go. Also, I’m a little sad about how much something that’s “probably not cancer but we need to check anyway” costs. Ugh.

She has a set of rules to follow regarding how to sit in chairs. Perhaps they’re a little particular, but most are in the interest of posture, others aesthetic.

When she’s caught, she’ll insist that she’s sitting up straight. She will tell you how this shows her off better, how it makes prominent the lacing of her corset or the thin fabric over her rear.

And it will all make perfect sense, but so will the added punishment of the top of the back of the chair digging into her stomach as she’s pulled up, bent over it and dealt with properly.

Happy Upcoming New Year, tumblr!

Please have fun and be safe tonight. Don’t drink and drive. Keep an eye on your drink. Keep friends close.

And here’s some girls with sparklers in their asses. Because people seem to be at their most creative when it comes to conceiving porn.

Seriously. We could figure out world peace in two seconds if it was in porn form.

Ivy

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