Back to School, Part Four

I asked Flint if he’d hurt me and he suggested the big menacing rubber thing he’d been giving The Librarian bruises with. I agreed, if he promised to maybe give only about half the force behind each swing he’d been giving her.

He sat me down in a chair and a little pocket of people started to gather around as he began smacking my thigh with the tool. It made a wet, rubbery sound each time it hit, like a suction cup being applied and then torn away very quickly. An oval rose on one of my thighs, turning pink first, then red. The bruise began to protrude as well, bulging slightly from my thigh like an extra swell of quadricep.

A girl came over and put a sticker on my cheek for taking it so well, and we ended up having a conversation while Flint hit me to distract from the pain. 

“Somebody said you’re actually a teacher,” she said, gesturing to my outfit.

I nodded, “uh huh, yeah. I’m a teacher.” It made my get-up feel a little silly and a teensy bit degrading.

“You’re probably the hot teacher,” she grinned. “Actually, you’re definitely the hot teacher.” At first, I didn’t realize why she’d started laughing, but it dawned on me that I’d just started conspicuously blushing. 

When Flint finished, he asked if I needed aftercare and I severely underestimated how many endorphins were running through me, so I shot up from the seat. Instantly, I collapsed right back down and the girl who had been talking fetched me water, somebody else came back with some cheese and crackers. I put my head against Flint’s thigh and sucked in a deep breath, proud of myself for taking it.

“That’s going to hurt a lot tomorrow,” Lida said, inspecting the bruise.

She wasn’t lying.


Back to School, Part Three

As part of a means of breaking the ice, we all had little sheets of stickers. If you liked someone’s outfit, you could give them a sticker. If somebody said something clever, you could give them a sticker. If you were too shy to flirt: sticker.

The Librarian had started up with hitting people with a ruler over some matter with the stickers, and it was clear that she was going to get her just deserts. Flint had twisted one of her arms up her back and was hitting her with a threatening-looking flap of rubber. Bruises were darkening on her skin already, but she was taking it like a champ.

“Hey,” Lida said. She and I and one of Flint’s other partners were sharing an armchair. She’d snatched a whole book of stickers from somewhere and started applying them to my cleavage.

A little earlier, she’d been shy about talking to a pretty girl I know and I’d pretty smoothly introduced them before dipping seamlessly out of the conversation. I figured maybe the chest full of stickers was partially a thank you for that and partially a demonstration that she wasn’t upset over how hard I’d spanked her.

“Where’d you get those?” I asked.

Lida shrugged, “just took ‘em.”


Back to School, Part Two

Flint and I were hanging around on the couch while I was recovering from having my ass whacked with a wooden spoon and having half a party of mostly strangers see my ass and pussy. Lida came over and was being adorable, but totally forgot to say “please” when she asked for something even after I’d taught her. So, I asked Flint if I could give her a spanking and he said it would be fine.

Lida laid across my lap and I flipped her skirt up. Underneath, she was wearing a cute little pair of panties, and I noticed that her stockings were being held up by a garter belt. I didn’t know what kind of schoolgirl wore garters, but I wasn’t about to complain.

I set to spanking her, alternating between sharp hits and lighter swats. She squirmed and whined under my hand while I chastised her about being so impolite. A small group of people had gathered to watch, probably amused by one small lady dressed like a schoolgirl beating down on another small lady dressed like a schoolgirl. 

Looping my fingers under her garters, I pulled them up and let them snap against her thighs. She leapt against my legs, squealing, and a few of the people watching chuckled. Shooting them a smirk, I slipped my fingers under the garters once more and snapped them. 

I’m still so awkward about the whole domming people thing, and I honestly felt I needed aftercare after I’d done it because I felt so bad for making her hurt so much. Her ass and thighs were bright red when I finished, and I kissed her after and made sure she was okay with the whole thing.

“Are you serious?” Flint laughed, “she loves this stuff.”


Back To School, Part One

A couple in the poly/kink community in my city threw a back-to-school themed party for their non-monogamous and kinky friends. It was totally just supposed to be a meet and mingle kind of thing, but let me preface by saying all the wooden spoons and rulers in their house ended up broken, and I left with a massive bruise

(Yeah, this is how behind I am. I’m finally writing about something that happened TWO months ago.)

I’d opted to channel a little “Baby One More Time”-type look, complete with pigtails, and carpooled over with The Librarian, who had gone for a teacher-type look. The ride over was, confessedly, a little awkward. She and I shared two partners (Flint and Nilla) and she’s the ex of my pizza friend, and we basically only knew each other vis-a-vis these people. So, while we tried to sort of get to know each other in the car, things were wholly pretty awkward. This is what happens when you live in a relatively small city with a poly/kink community, I guess.

When we arrived, I noticed that several other girls had (predictably) picked up on the whole Britney Spears schoolgirl thing and were wearing similar outfits, including Lida. But, while I’d chosen to wear little oxfords, she’d opted for these absurdly tall heels that made her already tall frame sway and teeter whenever she walked. 

I ended up sticking with Flint and Lida and one of their other partners I hadn’t met before at first, feeling a little shy and not really knowing a whole lot of people at the party. Flint was dressed like a teacher as well, down to a tweed jacket with patches on the elbows. 

As an icebreaker, the hostess had us write two truths and a lie on an index card and then walk around, trading cards and trying to guess lies. While this was going on, The Librarian had started wandering around with a ruler and was playfully tapping people on the ass. Eventually, other people had joined in, hitting each other with everything from metal rulers to wooden spoons from the hosts’ kitchen.

“Wow, she’s out of control,” a guy joked to me, pointing to the Librarian as she was whaling the now bare-assed host (who’d been dressed like a lunch lady, and his partner as the headmistress/principal figure) with a ruler. 

I smiled. “Yeah, that’s why I’ve been taking certain measures.” I gestured behind me. To protect myself, I’d been standing with my ass against the table with the refreshments. 

The guy tapped the wooden spoon against his hand. “That’s cheating.”

I shrugged.

“Oh, do you want to hit her?” Flint asked, coming over and pulling me away from the table. He looped one arm around my waist, while he went to tug the back of my skirt up.

“Stop!” I squealed, my hands flailing behind me to try to catch the fabric of my skirt and tug it back down. Flint moved the arm around my waist up my back, forcing me to bend over. “Flint, you’re going to show everyone my-”

“Hey Ivy,” the hostess said. “Maybe your lie should’ve been ‘I’m wearing underwear.’”


At the end of our second date, Nilla asked me if he was too vanilla for me. I laughed, because the question was kind of silly. 

I guess because I mess around with Flint sometimes and I’m a kinky girl, he assumed that I only gravitated to kinky people when looking for partners. Which is, I understand, how some kinky people navigate non-monogamy and partner-finding.

But let me lay out our second date for you:

  1. He picked me up and brought me to his place.
  2. We took a few bong rips and watched The Muppets, which was the best thing to do.
  3. When I said I didn’t want to have sex right away, he asked instead if he could go down on me. To which I was like, uhhh, yeah.
  4. He was really good at that. Like, I mean, full-on loving the pussy good at it. Like, way beyond spelling the alphabet with his tongue good at it. Like, enthusiastic, game-changingly good at it.
  5. When I sucked his cock, he actually murmured, “how do you even do that?” at one point which might be the best testimonial ever.

So, no, when a guy grabs my hips, throws me down and makes sweet face-love to my pussy, he is not too vanilla for me. 


Disclaimer: The following is a fantasy and not a genuine threat. Were we to carry this out, it would involve consenting people, proper protection and a ton of precautions.

Months ago, Flint and I were hanging around on my couch. He was choking me a little bit, holding my throat until I started to get genuinely scared and tried to buck him off of me. As panicked I would get each time he cut my breath, I kept asking for more until it was finally, maybe, a little too much.

“Tell me something scary,” I said, accepting that as a substitute. “I want you to scare me.”

Flint smiled and smoothed some of my hair off of my forehead. “The first time I fuck you, it’s going to be rape,” he replied, voice calm and even and maybe a little condescending.

“How?” I chuckled. “You can’t rape me if I want to fuck you.”

He shrugged. “Well, I’ll just come in while you’re asleep. You’ll wake up to the sound of duct tape being torn off the roll. I’ll have a few friends come along to help hold you down, and I’ll let them have you afterwards as a thanks for the favor.” He patted my cheek. “What do you think of that? Maybe I’ll get enough people to come that we’ll double your number that night alone.”

I stared at him, speechless.

“Think of that, love, half of a decade of sexual activity doubled in one night,” he grinned. “And all of it against your will.”

I shook my head, “you couldn’t do that.”

He shrugged, “if you say so.”

Some nights, I catch myself wondering whether or not to lock the deadbolt on my door.


I first met Nilla when I accidentally flashed him while showing Flint a bruise he’d given me on my breast. Of course, I was only about 500% embarrassed about that.

The second time, I met up with him, Flint and one of their mutual partners, the Librarian, for drinks. We had a fun evening, but at the end of the night we went our separate ways. But, while I was sucking Flint’s cock that night, he got a text from Nilla and replied with an explanation of what I was up to. I blushed like crazy.

The third, we ended up hanging around and I whined about how it’s been too long that I’ve been spit-roasted and Flint pointed out that my dress was a little see-through and I started blushing like crazy all over again. Flint tried to initiate something, having me walk ahead of them while they discussed me. We were both coming down with the same cold, and we were both feeling a little awkward when Flint basically suggested a threesome. I understood why he thought it might break the ice, but we both got shy.

The fourth happened because we both texted each other the night after the third saying we’d felt awkward and we both wanted to get to know each other a little better. Even though he had a flight the next evening, we made time to see each other in the morning. We had coffee and got to know each other. I learned he wasn’t terribly kinky, but that doesn’t bother me all that much. He’s good-looking and funny and we have very easy conversation. 

Right before we said goodbye, he asked if he could kiss me. Finally, the context felt right. 


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.”


Halfway There, Part Thirteen

I had Lida squat down in the bathtub, and made her repeat “please,” “thank you,” and “I’m sorry” in different iterations until she was shaking from holding the position and having to urinate. I felt like I was on a high, dominating this girl while Flint and Macy stood behind me, watching. 

“What do you say?” I asked.

Lida stared up at me, humiliated and confused.

“I just let you piss here, what do you say?” I repeated.

She whined, “thank you for letting me piss in the bathtub and not in the kitchen.”

I turned around to face Flint, “she’s not very bright, is she?” I knew, of course, this wasn’t the case. I imagined she was just as bewildered as I was, though I was compensating for mine with my bravado.

On the way out of the bathroom, Flint seized up a fistful of my hair, pulling e up onto my tiptoes. “I feel like you’ve forgotten your place,” he said as he dragged me over to the couch, “let’s see what we can do about that.”

As usual, Old Ironsides didn’t bruise from the spanking he gave me, even though it hurt like crazy. During aftercare, he took me into Macy’s bedroom, where he proceeded to blow a raspberry into my stomach. “You asshole,” I exclaimed when he did.

“By the way,” he said, pulling back, “he gave you another tally. You’re up to four now.”

I bit my lip. That was it. I was halfway there.


Halfway There, Part Twelve

My mind was moving a thousand miles a minute and I could barely process what was happening as I strode into the kitchen. There was a weird disconnect between what was going on in my head and how I was behaving. Outwardly, I was confident, quick, maybe a little cruel. Inside, I was nervous. My jaw was shaking.

“Now, where’s the bowl you’re supposed to piss in?” I asked, picking up a collander that was on the counter. “Sure hope this isn’t it, huh? That would be embarrassing." 

I knew that I couldn’t actually make her piss into the a bowl. For all the bravado, I was kind of petrified. The only time I’ve ever been this dominant was with Switch, and it was after I’d known him for a while. This was more performative, more new. I was scared at any second I’d fail at maintaining the facade and would totally drop out of character.

Meanwhile, Lida was whimpering and setting a bowl on the floor. I sucked in a deep breath and pointed to the bathroom door, "get in there, you’ll piss in the tub.”

“Okay,” she replied, getting to her feet.

“Okay?” I repeated. “Honestly, are you kidding me? I’m being nice to you and you’ve got the most piss-poor manners. What do you say to me?”

“I have to pee,” she stammered.

“You say ‘please,’ ‘thank you,’ and ‘I’m sorry.’ That’s all I want to hear from you,” I ordered.

She shifted from side to side. “Okay.”

I looked over to Flint, “is she fucking stupid or something? I told her what to say and she still doesn’t say it.” He chuckled. I motioned to the bathroom once more, “get in there, would you?”

Lida scrambled over to the bathroom. Flint shot me a smirk and I just shrugged, winking before following Lida inside.