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The Party Sub, Part Eleven

I wish I could say that the evening ended on this amazing note and Sir and I came home and fucked each others’ brains out. But this wasn’t really the case. I had a wonderful night, but a lot of things compounded by the end of it made it a little rough.

I was tired, subspaced and starting to experience a pretty extreme sub drop. I was feeling some shame. When Sir and I tried to fuck in the loft, I couldn’t even get wet. I sucked his cock, but I kept getting distracted and nervous. There were some people up there messing around as well, and for the first time I was hyper-aware of it and it made me really insecure.

So, Sir just let me lie down and he held me, kissing me behind my ear and letting me come down from everything. Star came upstairs and cuddled up with us, and at some point the three of us just fell asleep.

When we woke up, I got dressed and Sir and I gathered our things and left. In the cab back, I started to feel better and even a little proud of myself. While I had left the party being quiet and a little short, by the time we were on the road, I was chatting and gushing and going over the night.

While I dropped a little bit the next afternoon, in the weeks that have passed, I realized how brave I was and how I really opened up to this new experience. If nothing else, I’d say I totally went all-in.

The takeaway is I’m kind of addicted to these sorts of parties and next time, I’ll know a little better what to expect and how to handle all of it. Because, yes, I’m going to make sure there’s a next time.

“You know I win,” he says, “I always win.”

And no matter how much I fuss and pout and argue, I know he’s absolutely right.

SG and I just had a conversation about how a hitachi is actually a good investment financially.

But honestly a pretty poor investment in my future, since the likelihood of me getting anything done with it is pretty slim.

sexysexnsuch:

umm

Blah I just found this in my drafts and tried to buy it for Sir for Valentine’s Day (I’m a romantic) but it’s still not on the market yet blargggg.

If anyone’s curious. It’s called Durex Fundawear.

doctortease:

No matter how you dress yourself up or what airs you put on; no matter how you control your body or hide your past; no matter how icy and aloof and self-possessed you may seem, I know the truth. Where you started. What you were. What you are.

Pillowfucker.

Needy, greedy, desperate little grinder, ever since you were young, maybe since before you can remember. Squirming around trying to figure out what your body wanted: curl up and clench, sweaty forehead and sore knees in the darkness of your room. Never let your hand creep down there, or couldn’t figure out what to do with it if you did. And then you tried shoving the big soft lump down between your legs, and squeezing. And oh.

Did you ever get caught? Not more than once, I bet. Some things you learn to hide quickly. But you’ve always had a hungry body, and you never could quite rein it in. Sneaking off whenever you could manage it, calculating how long it would be until you’d get to try again. Your mind wandered in school and church and family outings. Couldn’t help that. Your pussy kept leading it astray.

This is what I mean when I call you “little girl,” little girl. You haven’t really changed at all. You’re the same wet flushed sullen frantic humping pillowfucker you’ve been your whole life, and all the roles and rules and pretty words you use are just attempts to conceal it.

They don’t work. You’ve been caught a second time, and there’s no playing it off or hasty excuses, not with me. I can see what’s inside of you, little bouncer, little secret keeper, little burning ember. No point in hiding anymore.

Now show me what you can do.

The Party Sub, Part Ten

Sir brought me upstairs and had me lie down with my head resting on a pillow and my ass up. He teased his fingers over my butt and down the back of my leg, leaning in to kiss my thighs. I thought he was going to eat my pussy from behind, but instead he leaned in and started to lick my asshole.

I blushed and buried my face in the pillow. Sir’s never done that before, mostly because I’m way too squirmy about the whole thing. It had been a while since I’d been rimmed, but I found myself squirming back against him.

After a while, Sir pulled back and started spanking me. I took it and felt myself start to get overwhelmed by endorphins once more. By the time he stopped and told me to hold the position, my head was fuzzy and I was getting sleepy. With that, Sir walked downstairs and left me to wait with my ass in the air.

Some people were messing around fairly close to us and when he got back, Sir asked them if I had been a good girl.

“Yeah, she was,” one replied, “she’s a very a good girl.”

I grinned into the pillow.

qinni:

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I got an earlyish night last night because I came home from being out with some people in my program and the whole thing exhausted me. Like, I am getting kind of tired of some of these people and I’m finding more and more that a lot of them aren’t particularly genuine.

Not to sound like a reality tv character, but I’m very tired of fake people. I’m going to make an effort to surround myself only with the people that I feel aren’t quite so ridiculous. While this makes me desperately miss my friends, I know there are definitely people like that out here and I also know who those people are. But I’m really over some of the bullshit.

This has been a post.

The Party Sub, Part Five

Sir and I rejoined the group in the main area and he wandered over to the guy who was beating presumably his partner with a flogger. He’d really liked the material of his flogger, apparently, and struck up a conversation about impact play and the fact that he made his own implements for this sort of stuff.

Being a little bit subspaced, I just sort of stood on by and smiled. The guy was going through his bag of toys, explaining to Sir what he had brought. The two were comparing strategies, so to speak, and the guy mentioned that he had a hitachi. To Sir’s delight, it was purple.

“I’ve never used a hitachi,” I shared, “I mean, I have a crappy knockoff, but not the real thing.”

Somehow, I had agreed to let this guy use his hitachi on me and I found myself walking up to the loft with the girl who had been flogged. She was super sweet (she could probably see I was ~~a little~~ super nervous) and helped me sit down on the bed. Sir stood beside me and ran his hand through my hair while the guy plugged his hitachi into the wall.

Before he started, he knelt down in front of me and asked me about limits, any kind of joint issues, etc. I’m someone who finds attention to consent like that super sexy, and I got a little blushy and flustered and said something silly to the extent of “just do what you’d like.”

He moved over to my right and took hold of the hitachi. He lined it up with the inside of my thigh and let his free hand settle on my lower belly to steady me as he switched it on. I wasn’t sure where to look as he proceeded to tease the head over my thighs, down my legs, across the hem of my panties. Sir still stood at my side, the hitachi-wielder’s partner was seated behind me on the bed, and the guy was down on the ground, making me moan and squirm and blush.

“It’s her first time with a hitachi,” the partner announced proudly, clapping me on the shoulder, and I became aware of the fact that some people had probably heard me and had come over to watch. I averted my gaze to the floor and looked into the eyes of the guy with the hitachi. He smirked and brought it right over my clit through the fabric of my panties.

I gasped and bucked against him, and as he held a bit more firmly with the hand on my torso, Sir explained, “she’s not allowed to cum yet. It’s too early in the night.”

Maybe I had expected that he would find Sir irrational or something. But, when I exclaimed that I was cumming, he quickly moved the hitachi away and onto my thigh before I could. I huffed in frustration and started begging. “Please,” I pleaded, arching my lower back to try to meet the hitachi, “please, I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll be a good girl.” I figured the sincerity would be enough to sway him, without having to make good on that promise.

“She gets a little silly when she’s needy,” Sir explained with a chuckle.

The guy just grinned wider and ran the hitachi over the ball of my foot. Being ticklish, I squealed and tried to move away. “Well it’s not up to me,” he replied to my pleads, “and you’ve got to earn those orgasms, you can’t just have them."

Fuck. Naturally he had to side with Sir on this one.

He took me up to the edge again. Sir was smiling down at me, rubbing my shoulder. When I looked in front of me, a guy was staring from the steps up to the loft, smirking. The guy had applied so much pressure on my lower belly to try to keep me steady that I pressed too hard and fell back. I nearly died on the spot when I felt a pair of hands behind me pull me back up to sit, and I glanced back to see the man in the tuxedo – now with significantly less clothing – who had let us in at the beginning of the evening.

Despite how exposed I felt and how anxious from all the attention, I realized I was about to cum again. He’d taken the hitachi up to the second speed, as if his partner had informed me, and I was barely holding it together. Once more, I shared and I was denied. I pouted, bucking against the guy’s hand and letting out a frustrated squeal. "Come on, please?”

The guy laughed and switched the vibrator off, unplugging the cable. “Well,” he said, “aren’t you a whiner?” I tried to object but, of course, all I could manage to do was just whine about it.

Sir sat down on the bed and I laid across his lap while he stroked my hair and told me what a good girl I had been for being so brave. I was really proud of myself.

“I hope you let her cum tonight,” said the guy’s partner as Sir handed her a riding crop. She hit me on the pussy a few times, but was so careful and light about it that it was kind of sweet. “I think she deserves it.”

ginkitten:

Now taking applications for housemaid.

I mean if by housemaid you mean stand around looking cute in apron-style lingerie and maybe sometimes dusting something, I’m game.

What gets me is the way she looks at him.

(But, God, did he really have to make that tasteless Ike Turner reference?)

crolore:

so cute

Ivy

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