It’s sexist
and also a little naive
to assume that all bullies are boys.
gag
I’m kind of over this whole notion of sweater weather.
Can I just run around in pretty things?
Not the worst tanning setup I’ve seen.
But she’s going to get the worst, most embarrassing tan-lines ever.
“Don’t let the monsters get me, ‘kay?”
This reminds me of someone who can probably come up with a significantly better caption for this than I.
I may not be too good at behaving,
but I’m awfully great at showing remorse.
So, what do I have to do to get dressed like this in the morning?
See the full video at Bondage Cafe.
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(Agh this post is super, super blushy but Sir is having me write it so bear with me because ugh it’s so blushy I can’t.)
So, Sir decided that since we’re moving into a new sort of dynamic, I have a few lessons to learn so that I can be a good slave. The first, today, was that my holes needed to be filled up when they weren’t in use.
He taught me that the order was ass, mouth and pussy. The ass came first because I had to remember that my pleasure comes second. The mouth comes second so that I can get the gag wet with my pussy. And then the pussy is last to make sure I’m all filled up and I don’t forget what my holes are for.
It was the afternoon and I didn’t have anywhere to be for a bit, so I bent over on my bed and put my metal plug in my asshole. Then, I laid down and got my pussy all wet, rubbed my cock gag into it and gagged myself with it. And then I slipped Mr. Purple deep into my pussy, but didn’t turn it on.
It was a little overwhelming, how full I felt. I couldn’t even sit down because the pressure was so intense (I’m a very little girl) and so I was stuck either lying down or kneeling. But Sir said he was very proud of me and I was proud of myself. Usually, when it comes to doing stuff to myself on my own, I wuss out and don’t carry it out. But I just wanted to be a good girl.
I’m looking forward to learning more lessons.
The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Four
The following evening, after Sir and I went out to the movies, we wound up back at his place and he said that he wanted to train my ass. I’m the queen of squirming out of anal play, but I had offered to him that during this trip I would let him at least get the anal beads that he bought me up there. We’d only used them once before and I was super shy about it and insisted I pull them out myself.
But, while I was lying across his lap and he was applying lubricant to the beads and my asshole, Sir told me he also intended on trying to get Mr. Purple in there, too.
“He’s not gonna fit!” I pouted.
Sir placed his hand at the curve of my back to calm me, “it’s made for assholes. It will fit just fine if you relax.”
While Sir started to slip the beads in, I focused on my breathing. The strand is silicone, I believe, with about ten beads that increase in size. I tried to count as each one went in, but Sir would pull them back out ever so often to get me accustomed to taking them.
Usually, at the earliest sign of feeling uncomfortable or out of control, I would have made him stop. But, I tried to trust that he wouldn’t hurt me. He checked in regularly to make sure I was feeling all right, and only stopped when I literally felt so full I couldn’t take another.
“You took eight out of ten. I’m very proud,” he replied. He had me get up and walk around, making me explain to him exactly how it felt. I got back over his lap and he pulled them out while I buried my face in his couch.
“Okay, darling,” he continued, applying more lubricant to my asshole, “time for Mr. Purple.”