You don’t want to know the things he made her do to get that lollipop.
hand
Trapped, Part 1
It was a trap.
The lights were out in his bedroom. I was three steps in, hand over the switch, when he grabbed me from behind. I gasped as one of his hands twisted my arm up on my back and he nudged me against the wall with his knee. He pressed himself against me and his other hand wandered upwards, grabbing my face between his fingers and forcing my lips to purse. His breath was hot against my neck and the light scruff below his lips tickled my skin as he spoke in a voice that gave away his grin.
“Hi there, pretty girl."
“Admit that I’m your favorite,” I told the Southern Gentleman last night, teasingly.
He smirked, “shut up and give me your cunt."
I sat back and moved my panties aside, starting to rub my clit. "Nah, I think I’m just going to take care of myself.”
“You,” he said, “and your tight little cunt and your hot little mouth are my favorite.”
“Oh, now you’re just saying that,” I pouted.
“Ivy.”
“I don’t know, the last time I wanted you I didn’t get what I wanted,” I slid a finger in slowly and dipped my head back, “so I think I may just spend some alone time with your favorite little cunt. You can watch.”
“Darling, if I fucked you every time one of us was aroused, we’d never get anything done,” he replied, “and that’s why you’re my favorite.”
Hey guys,
So, I had my queue kind of take over for the past few days, but it has run out. I am in the middle of finals, so please bear with me for the next few days. I’ve got plenty to tell you, but very little time.
<3, Ivy
After my mother left, I went out with a bunch of friends and just danced for hours. It was probably one of the best nights out I’ve had all year, we all just let loose.
At some point, I caught up with that guy in my frat. I know, followers, I know, I swore myself off him earlier this week. But, according to one of my friends, he talks about me nonstop when I’m not around. I don’t think I can honestly fault him for going out and having some random hookup when we aren’t even together.
Anyway, right away he asked, “why didn’t you introduce me to your mother?”
I laughed and shook my head. “You could’ve come over and introduced yourself like everyone else.”
“You should’ve introduced me,” he insisted. “I didn’t want to be rude and come over.”
“How noble,” I replied.
He shrugged, “I thought she’d want to meet the guy who is taking you to the formal.”
“Oh, so now you’re taking me to the formal?” I raised a brow.
“If you’ll let me.”
One of my friends was waving me back over to the dance floor. I smiled and started to walk over, but not before saying, “only if you’re a gentleman.”
Okay. So. Let me get this straight.
I’m supposed to function like a normal human being.
But there are pictures like this to keep me distracted.
Life is so unfair. Just look at how he’s holding her. His hand overwhelms her face.
The struggling is all for show, really. She wants it, she asked for it by name. But when she gets what she wants, she simply can’t hold still.
She’s been told before that these things are wrong, perverse. To accept them in practice would be to accept them in principle. And she couldn’t do that. She’s a woman of principles.
And so she squirms. And she gasps. And she begs please don’t. Usually, she’s given it anyway. But, sometimes, the action stops. And she has to beg for it. Admit it. Claim it.
She has to give it a name again. And by naming it, she makes it hers.
Hey, Dacry?
See that hand coming out from the left?
Gets you thinking, right?
I think we need to find ourselves a new friend.
<3, Ivy
Ellen Von Unwerth
“You said I came close
as anyone’s come
to live underwater
for more than a month.
You said it was not inside my heart, it was.
The city should tear a kid apart, it does.”
Transportée ..*
I have a tendency to curl my hands into fists when I’m anxious or upset. It’s never really a violent thing, it’s more of a tension and control thing. I regulate the tension in my hands. I feel the squeeze. It’s controlled chaos.
And submitting is like someone taking that fist and pulling it open. It’s a release. It’s a loss of control, but it comes with such an overwhelming freedom. It says, let me play with the tension, let me control your chaos.