Me, basically.

The Party Sub, Part Four

While I was busy watching a girl getting a pretty thorough flogging on her back and ass, Sir had gotten my wrists cuffed behind my back and was still talking to the girl beside him. In the process of cuffing me, he had revealed that he had not only made the handcuffs, but that he had a whole arsenal of things that he had brought along that were homemade.

He set to showing off his floggers and crops, explaining what was what and how he’d gone about each. The girl was being really nice and super respectful, so I got brave and consented when she asked for a demonstration. However, I requested that we go to another room.

Smirking, Sir grabbed a handful of my hair and walked me along that way through the party. I tried to act as casual as I could about this, but it was really pulling at my submissive thread and I felt myself starting to unravel. By the time we found a basically empty room and Sir had bent me over in front of a futon, the combination of the fact that I was going to be used as a demonstration with the cuffs and the way he had hauled my along by the hair, leaving me to make awkward eye contact with a few other guests, I was feeling fairly pliant.

He started with the flogger and, with this girl watching, I felt tempted to take more than I usually would. I wanted to make Sir proud and I was sure I stayed bent over, breathing deeply through my nose to keep myself centered.

“Could I try?” she asked and Sir turned to me.

I nodded and I felt her hand rest on my hip, tentatively. She swung the flogger and hit me squarely across my left asscheek. Looking to Sir for some sort of approval, I watched him grin as he stated that I really should be thanking her.

“Thank you,” I gasped out. It was kind of clear that the girl had significantly more chemistry with Sir, which made the whole thing a little awkward, but she was super sweet when she finished and thanked me for being such a good girl for her.

I like getting used in the afternoon.

With the pretty sun shining in

and the mood easy and unassuming.

I feel braver.

Full Service, Part Five

Craftsmate slipped the tweezer clamps onto my nipples before picking up the flogger. He started to beat my thighs, stomach and chest in quick, sharp hits. However, I noticed that he was holding back a bit, carefully ensuring that he was not hitting me too hard.

Usually, I appreciated when he did this. I’m not much of a masochist. However, as subspaced as I was, I wanted more. I wanted to go deeper and I wanted it to really, genuinely hurt.

“Harder,” I gasped out. He looked a bit surprised, but he swung the flogger harder. I continued to beg, “harder, please, Sir, please…"

Soon, he rolled me over onto my stomach. I squealed and winced as my clamped nipples pushed into the bed. The pressure sent a sharp, persistent pain through my breasts.

"Ow,” I whined, squirming to try to find a better position. However, the hogtie left me very few options.

“Aww, it hurts?” He teased, attaching the clover clamps to my pussy lips. My breath caught as he gave a sharp tug to the clamps, forcing them to squeeze my labia tighter. He slipped the vibrator underneath me, lining it up with my clit and turning it on low. “Does that make it all better?”

I moaned, grinding up onto the vibrator, “uh huh.” I caught myself. “Yes, Sir.”

Full Service, Part Four

Once I had the panties stuffed into my mouth, Craftsmate ordered me to get down on my hands and knees, lower my chest to the floor and stick my ass in the air. Wordlessly, he picked up the flogger and started to beat my ass and back with it.

I groaned around my panties, my toes clenching with each hit. He leaned down, gathering up the rope and moving me over to the bed. I laid down on my stomach and he took my wrists in his hand, starting to wind the rope around them.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered as he knotted off my wrists. “You get deeper when you do that, don’t you?”

I let my eyes close and allowed my body to relax as he tied each leg individually up to my wrists. That way, he could move the legs apart and fuck me easily when the time came.

When he finished tying my legs, my head was swimming and I could barely will my eyes open. Craftsmate sat at the edge of the bed, playing with my hair as he asked how I was feeling. I attempted to give him an answer, but I wound up mumbling into the panties instead.

“What’d you say, sweetheart?” He asked, pulling the panties out of my mouth.

“I want my vibrator,” I whined out, catching myself and repeating it, “please, Sir, I want my vibrator.”

He laughed, “not yet.” Still chuckling, he got up and went to fetch both pairs of nipple clamps, as well as the vibrator. When he returned to the side of the bed, he dropped the vibrator off to the side and rolled me over onto my back.

I always want it to get that red, but I’m far too squirmy and sensitive to be able to sit through that many blows. I wish I were more of a masochist, but I like the marks much, much more than the pain.

Cats Don’t Do the Dishes, Part Six

Craftsmate tied me facedown on his bed and proceeded to get his flogger out. He beat me until I was crying out so much that he had to gag me and put music on to drown out all the noise.

Then, he sat down on me and started to tickle my ribs. I am absurdly ticklish and I absolutely hate being tickled. A few minutes in, I was panting for breath and drooling around the gag. He stopped, moved his duvet cover so I could see the small puddle of my salvia that had soaked into it, and proceeded to scold me for drooling all over his bed.

“Look at the mess you made,” he chided, pulling on my hair before pushing my face into it. I blushed six shades of red.

He rolled me over and tied me back down, picking the flogger back up and starting to beat my breasts.

Flash Forward #1

The fact is, tumblr, that in writing about my visit to Penthouse, I set myself back a month in terms of posting. Which is definitely not a bad thing, usually. Except, this was an incredibly eventful month. So, since a lot of my favorite movies involved fucked up presentations of time (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Memento, etc.), I’m doing some flash forwards. Essentially, I’m writing about the present time sans context. Posts from the past are forthcoming, but I thought it would be fun to intersperse some stuff from the present.

It’s movie night.

That guy from my frat and I are on Craftsmate’s couch, waiting for the Redhead to arrive. Craftsmate is in the kitchen with two of my other friends, making popcorn. Apparently, this is a three-person job.

“You should thank me for tonight,” that guy from my frat says.

I roll my eyes.

He presses. “Ask me why you should be thanking me.”

I humor him. “Why should I be thanking you?”

“I leant Craftsmate my whip for tonight,” he reveals with a grin. The night before, the two of them had been discussing this stuff. After that guy from my frat had left my room, he had sent Craftsmate a text offering the whip. Naturally, Craftsmate showed me and we had a laugh about it.

“I know,” I reply. “Craftsmate showed me the text. So, thanks, you weirdo.” I give him a playful nudge.

He smiles. “Just being a good neighbor.”

The Redhead arrives just as the popcorn is finishing. She sits on that guy from my frat’s other side and starts up another round of our mutual complaining about applying to grad school.

Craftsmate emerges from the kitchen with my two friends and sits down on my other side. I curl up into him as my friends sit down on the other couch.

As the movie plays, I look up and down the couch over The Redhead, that guy from my frat, Craftsmate. Things feel strangely good, like all the pieces were thrown up in the air and have somehow fallen into some pattern that works. Craftsmate leans down and kisses me. He tastes like popcorn and ginger beer.

After the movie, that guy from my frat has to make a big deal out of showing me the whip. The two friends, who are pretty vanilla, are kind of intrigued.

“Oh,” I reply, putting on some fake dismay to mess with him. “That’s a flogger. Craftsmate already has a few of those. But I guess that makes sense since you also thought all the random people in Public Disgrace weren’t actual paid participants and just literal randos on the street."

That guy from my frat starts trying to bust my chops and saying he’s going to sign me up to model for Kink behind my back. The Redhead reaches behind him to pull on my sleeve. "Don’t worry,” she mouths, “I make him pay for it when he messes with you like that."

We both start laughing hysterically.

"And for your information, young lady,” reads a text from that guy from my frat after he and The Redhead have left. “I’m usually a top.”

I chuckle and send back, “have fun biting the pillow.”

Chained, Part Five

“I kind of want her to flog me,” Popcorn replied. It was certainly unusual, with me on the end of a chain and ballgagged. But, I wanted to try it.

As Popcorn got onto Penthouse’s bed, I rose up to my feet. Adjusting the chain somewhat, I accepted the flogger from Penthouse and sucked in a deep breath. Joking around with Craftsmate aside, I had never flogged anyone seriously before.

When Popcorn squirmed and squeaked, the bottom of her dress rode up slightly, showing just a peek of a pert little rear. I was surprised by how much I wanted to hit it, but I stuck to her legs and thighs, which she seemed perfectly happy with.

Suddenly, Penthouse grabbed his mirror and moved it over in front of the bed so we could see ourselves.

I froze. Ballgagged, collared, chained, holding a flogger. It was all too much. I squeezed the Taboo buzzer and shut my eyes tight. I don’t know exactly what about it bothered me, but it was something about how real everything became when I looked in the mirror. Seeing myself like that, I was almost scared. Coming to terms with what I’m into has been hard enough, but having to see it so clearly made me squeeze the buzzer without hesitation.

“Good girl,” Penthouse reassured as he put the mirror back. Popcorn joined in the coos. “Very good girl, thank you for letting us know.”

Once the mirror was gone, I felt myself smile around the ballgag as I continued to hit Popcorn with the flogger. Penthouse met my gaze and we exchanged smirks as I delivered the last few blows, gauging Popcorn’s reactions and not wanting to push it.

“You could’ve done more,” Popcorn said as she got off of the bed, rubbing her thighs. “That felt really good.”

I know I could have. Having her, squirming and moaning, while I was still gagged and chained, with Penthouse watching was all indescribably hot. But, I was still treading in new waters. And, as ironic as it sounds for the situation I was in, I was approaching it with some caution.

Growing a Pair, Part Four

Somewhere near the end of being flogged, I got really awkwardly subspaced. I say awkwardly because this wasn’t performed with any sort of D/s mindset or frame. It really was me just checking out what the flogger was like.

So, suddenly I’m all quiet and sort of drawn within myself. I shiver a bit when he runs his fingers over the marks to make sure they aren’t raised. Silently, I inspect them myself, mulling over in my head how to get myself out of this space before things get super uncomfortable.

I think, at one point, I was biting onto the knuckle of my index finger. Super. Leave it to me to get really awkwardly subspaced while standing on top of a desk.

“You would, Ivy,” I kept saying in my head. “You of all people would.”

So, I guess I sort of learned there’s no such thing as a casual flogging for me.