halfway there

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.

Halfway There, Part Eleven

I had gotten into a pretty good rhythm of beating Macy’s ass and I discovered that she was an absolute trooper. I’ve been hit with it before on my ass and a few minutes in, I was crying. She was just lying there, taking it, even asking for more each time I checked in.

“Can I go to the bathroom?” I heard Lida ask Flint.

“Ask her,” Flint replied.

I felt a lump rise in my throat when she asked. I didn’t know what to say and I was still super nervous. But, the second I opened my mouth, I couldn’t stop. I asked her where she wanted to go, and she said, “I don’t know.” Back when Flint wouldn’t let me go earlier in the evening, he’d threatened to make me pee into a bowl in the kitchen. So, I threatened that. Along with outside on the porch. Along with in the bathtub. When she started whining, I shot at her, “funny you don’t come to my defense when I’m embarrassed, but I’m supposed to make you feel comfortable? You’d better make up your mind and give me a damn good reason why I should let you have any kind of dignity doing this.”

I’m fairly sure surprise registered on both of our faces over what was coming out of my mouth, but I continued. “So, what is it? Where are you going to the bathroom?”

“I…I don’t know,” she whined.

“You don’t know?” I stopped hitting Macy’s ass for a moment, “you ever do any kind of debate? Mock trial?”

“N…no.”

“I’m not fucking surprised.” I resumed beating Macy. “You have no idea how to make an argument. So, you’ve got pathos, which is appealing to my pity for you. Which, after you posed for a fucking Christmas card photo with me on the toilet, I’ve got none of. Ethos, or my sense of ethics. And I have no moral qualms about making you piss on the fucking porch. And logos, an appeal to logic. But I think having you piss into a bowl in the kitchen makes pretty good sense to me, all things considered."

I was stern, I was intimidating, I was kind of a potty mouth. Flint was grinning like a moron. Lida was squirming.

"Come on,” I said, setting the rute stick onto the arm of the couch. “Get in the kitchen. You took too long. You’re pissing into a bowl.”

gentlekama:

Amanda Sugar & Palesaint by -vk photography-

Flickr: http://flic.kr/p/h75SV9

Halfway There, Part Ten

Flint must have seen it in the look on my face. He had Macy back at eating my pussy and Lida was bent over in my lap. I was kissing her while Flint played with her, but kept catching myself looking over her shoulder while I kissed her neck to smirk at him. I joke that I enjoy feeling like the bottomest of the bottoms, but something about the whole vibe of what was happening made me feel a little cocky.

“Ivy,” he asked, “you want to try domming?”

Instantly, I got super bashful. He had Macy lie facedown on the couch and handed me the rute stick. At first, I was very nervous about it. I was basically just tapping Macy on the ass with it. He had Lida kneel down next to me, but I just kept looking at my feet.

“You could hit harder,” Macy said.

Something about the way she said it flipped a switch in me. I raised a brow and measuredly delivered a harsher swat to her ass. “Oh yeah? I could hit harder?” I gave a few more. She moaned into the pillow.

I glanced over to Flint nervously, trying to feel out if this was all right, but he just grinned and took a seat.

Halfway There, Part Nine

When the food was done, Macy walked into the living room with her plate and took a seat on the couch. “Make sure you put your feet up on Ivy,” Flint said, which was in theory hot, but Macy has the coldest feet I have ever encountered. As in, do you have a circulatory system?-level cold. I groaned, but it wasn’t so uncomfortable that I was going to make it stop.

Lida’s feet soon joined hers and the three ate, talking and mostly not acknowledging my presence on the floor until I asked to be untied when my legs were starting to lose circulation a bit from being folded up for so long. They let me out, taking a bit to admire the rope marks on my skin while I stretched out.

We sat and watched television for a while, letting ourselves relax before the start of the inevitable round two.

Halfway There, Part Eight

Flint checked on me a couple of times before leaving the girls to finish up dinner in the kitchen. He took a seat on the couch, propping his feet up on my back. I adjusted myself as he used me as a footrest to watch television, making sure I wasn’t buckling too much under the pressure at the small of my back.

“Lida,” he said, “come here.”

I heard her walk out of the kitchen and over to me. He must have been motioning to her or have mouthed something, because I heard her say, “in front of her? Are you sure?”

“Your mouth first,” Flint replied.

Lida stepped over me and moved onto the couch. I blushed and buried my face into the carpet when I realized she was sucking Flint off, my cheeks burning even harder when I heard her moans as she climbed onto him and started riding him. Flint pressed one of his feet into my back, using my body as leverage as he thrusted back up into her. I couldn’t see them from my position, but the fact that they were essentially using me as a fulcrum for sex was – and I’m embarrassed to admit – maybe my favorite part of the night.

Eventually, he sent Lida back into the kitchen to finish the food and bent down to check on me.

“Was that okay?” He asked.

I nodded and he reached down between my legs. The second his fingers made contact, he started laughing. “Are you serious?” He shoved a few fingers inside of me and I moaned against the tape over my mouth. “That…that got you this fucking wet? Lida, she’s soaking wet.” He wiped his fingers on my face and grinned. “You’re disgusting, you know that?” With that, he rose to his feet and moved back into the kitchen.

Blushing, I squirmed a bit in my bonds. The smell of my wetness on my face was basically inescapable. I hated admitting that I was into this sort of thing – it took me forever to admit to Sir – and now I’d just silently confessed it to Flint and Lida.

Halfway There, Part Six

Disclaimer: The content of this particular post includes some pretty harsh treatment. Please keep in mind that I had safe words – “yellow” for slow down or do less, “red” for stop. The things I did were done willingly and enthusiastically, even when I demonstrated reluctant or fearful behavior. I could always stop what was happening to me.

Flint had Lida climb off of my face and applied a pair of wooden clothespins to my nipples. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep my composure with them on while he beat me with all manner of things, some familiar and some looking like the antennae that used to be on top of a car in the 90s.

“They really hurt,” I finally admitted.

Flint gave me a look of ‘well, yeah’ before he leaned down and flicked one of the clothespins. I winced hard. “You want them off, then?”

I nodded frantically. “Please, please. It hurts too much. Please.” I continued to beg, my eyes pleading, my body squirming under the pain of the clothespins squeezing my nipples.

“All right, let’s get them off,” Flint conceded, raising a hand to slap the clothespins off of my nipples one by one. The first came off with a painful snap, but the second ended up twisting around the nipple. I wailed in pain. Flint smirked, “bet that really hurts, huh?” He raised his hand to slap it again.

At this point, I was in so much pain that I was barely thinking. While my legs were bound, my arms weren’t. Before Flint could smack the clothespin once more, I reached up and removed the clothespin myself. He stopped, arm still in the air, looking a little shocked.

“You seriously didn’t just do that,” he shook his head. “I’ve never ever had someone do that.” He called the girls over and I covered my face with my hands, feeling embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, “it just hurt a whole lot and I wanted it off.”

I thought he would hit me or give me a spanking, but he just stayed still. “If it’s too much, you use a safe word. Do you know your safe words?” I nodded nervously and he had me repeat them to him. “Otherwise, you take it.”

“But it was all twisted,” I complained.

He frowned. “You don’t think I know what I’m doing, then?”

I shrugged. I felt rather small, ashamed that I hadn’t just used a safe word or allowed him to keep going. I could have taken the pain, but I was having trouble giving off that last resolve of control that prevented me from the kind of discomfort that I didn’t enjoy. Sure, I enjoyed it because I despised it, but I hadn’t even let myself go there.

“I’m better than this,” I insisted.

Flint took out his phone and started scolding me. “I’m going to tell your owner what you did. And I’m not going to tell him that you should get another tally, but I’m certainly going to suggest it."

I groaned. Perhaps seeing that I was kind of beating myself up for it, Flint sat down on the floor and pulled me upright. He held me for a few minutes to make sure I was all right. I think he saw that the scolding hadn’t gone over all too well and I was sort of beating myself up over it. Later on, he’d check in about it and make sure I was all right.

But, at that moment, I kind of beat myself up a little. I’d been messing around like this for quite a while. I wasn’t trying to be a brat and I felt I was better than this kind of thing. I was embarrassed that I’d let Sir down by not demonstrating that he’d trained me well. I’m a perfectionist, even when it comes to stuff like this.

So, I rested my cheek on Flint’s shoulder and reasoned with myself that, at the very worst, I’d just end up with another tally.

Halfway There, Part Five

“So, which breast you want bruised, then?” Flint asked. He likes to punish people for hesitation, I’ve noticed, so I blurted out that I wanted the left one bruised for the sake of avoiding any additional pain than what I was already getting. He cocked a brow. “Left, huh? Wow. Usually people don’t have an answer to that. But you’re just like, fuck this one.” He grabbed my breast in his hand and shook it for emphasis.

He’s got this thing called a rute stick that he uses rather often, and it’s absurdly painful. It looks like a bunch of long matchsticks looped together with a band. On the breasts, it hurts like crazy. I was crying out fairly quickly, making uncomfortable pained eye contact with Lida as I was getting hit.

Flint must have seen me looking at her, because he gestured for her to come over. “Lida, sit on her face,” he ordered. She did, straddling my head and lowering her pussy onto my face. I leaned up and started licking, but nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt Flint push the hitachi against my bare clit.

I am way too sensitive for it without a barrier, and I was just about to scream feeling it against my unprotected pussy. “Hey!” I exclaimed, “I…I can’t do this when you do that.”

“Then you’d better get back to work,” Flint said, moving the hitachi to a more comfortable area, where it actually felt pretty fantastic, “or I’ll put it back where it hurts."

Lida, already sensitive from Macy’s attentions on her pussy, was squirming on my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and moaned against Lida’s pussy, focusing as best as I could on eating her out despite the vibrations between my legs.

Halfway There, Part Four

“Lida, switch with her,” Flint ordered and gestured towards the armchair. I tentatively moved to rise from the chair, unsure as to who he was referring to, before he continued, “Ivy, come here, take your clothes off.”

I slipped off the armchair and moved over to the couch, sliding out of my clothing along the way. Applying some pressure to my shoulders, Flint had me kneel on the floor and produced a zip-tie. He secured my arms behind my back so my arms were arranged forearm-to-forearm horizontally across my back, my hands resting on the opposite elbows. With a gentle shove, he made me lie back and, in a significantly less gentle move, removed a few coiled lengths of rope and dropped them on my face.

Unravelling one, he shook it out and folded my leg so my knee was bent and my foot was resting against my butt. “Comfortable?” He asked. I nodded as he started to tie my leg into position. Over on the armchair, I could hear Lida moaning.

By the time Flint finished repeating the process on my other leg, I was already a little rope-happy. I settled into position, letting myself relax until I felt the weight of my body and the strictness of the position taking some of the feeling out of my fingers. Flint hauled me up and sliced away the zip-tie, letting me shake my arms out before shoving me right back down.

“So,” he began over the escalating pitch of Lida’s moans. “What are we going to do with you?”

Halfway There, Part Three

Once again, I couldn’t manage to relax until the three had left the room. For all my humiliation in the bathroom, I wound up lying back in an armchair, legs up, with Macy licking my pussy. So, ah, yeah. Guess it was worth it.

Flint had ducked into the shower and Lida was over on the couch. We were attempting to maintain some kind of a conversation. Please don’t ask me why. I guess I thought at the time that it would be a totally polite thing to do. So, I tried my hardest to talk to Lida despite the fact that there was totally a pretty girl on her knees and eating my pussy.

When Flint came out of the shower, I was still relatively coherent, all things considered.

“How’s she doing?” he asked.

I sucked in a breath. “G…good.”

“Really?” He took a seat on the couch. “Let me know. Could she be doing better?”

“N…no,” I stammered out, “she’s doing good."

I guess I was raised not to criticize gifts, I don’t know, but I felt awkward saying anything negative about a person when their mouth was right on my clitoris. She was doing pretty well, but I wasn’t about to point anything out in the position I was in.

"Really?”

I nodded. “R…really.”