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This is kind of one of our favorites ever ever.

master-of-o:

(via TumbleOn)

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Full Service, Part Seven

Craftsmate rolled me back over onto my stomach, setting the vibrator back underneath me and turning it on low. Carefully, he pulled the plug out of my ass. However, I got a bit too excited and clenched on it as he was pulling it out, which resulted in it feeling awful unpleasant.

Gently, he pushed a finger into my ass and started sliding it in and out. I moaned, burying my face in the sheets as he turned the vibrator on high.

“Come on,” I mumbled, my voice barely a whine. “Just fuck me, please.”

I craned my neck to look over at him. He was smirking, a little sparkle in his eye as he pumped his finger a little harder. “Fuck me, who?” He turned the vibrator off and set it aside.

“Oh, God, please fuck me, Sir,” I whined, squirming against his finger. Suddenly, he withdrew it and I heard him ripping a condom wrapper open.

He tugged my body to the edge of the bed and entered me with a rough thrust. With his hips, he pushed my legs further apart and started pounding into my cunt. Despite the way my body was being rocked against the bed and my efforts to thrust back against him, I managed to rest my head down on the sheets and felt myself grin.

It’s so nice when you get what you want.

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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.”

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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.

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So, I got a little brave and sent this picture from the other day to a pretty girl.

And I’m coping with my exhibitionist rush by posting it here too before I come down from it and blush and hide for days.

“Fairness” by Ivy Kink

Standard

Below, please find the next installment of previews of my book of erotica. This one is a drop longer and I posted a little bit of foreshadowing to it earlier today.

“It’s not fair!” She exclaimed, balling her hands into fists at her sides, brows furrowed in frustration. “I’m not even tired.”

Bedtime was perhaps one of the more cutting restrictions – indignities, if she was feeling dramatic – that her Daddy enforced. It was so basic, so devoid of sexual implication, so infantilizing. Moreover, it was subtle and constant enough to reinforce until the pattern crept under her skin and suddenly, even on a night off with friends, she found herself tired by eleven.

It was the insidious nature of this control that most frustrated and aroused her. And, with a few beers’ worth of liquid confidence and a crowd of her Daddy’s friends in the next room, she found herself bucking conventions in the hallway outside of the bedroom to buy herself at least another hour.

“Sweetheart,” her Daddy replied, attempting to mask his amusement behind authority, “it’s very fair. You have a bedtime and we stick to it. Otherwise…”

“But it isn’t fair,” she insisted, hoping her dedication to her argument would overrule her lack of evidence. “Everyone else is staying up.”

He chuckled, “Well, I’d hope so. It’s still quite early.” Much to his delight, her cheeks burned. “Besides, I can’t quite seem to put my finger on what you find so unfair.”

She shrugged, casting a glance down at her feet. “I ‘unno,” she replied. “I just don’t wanna. Not when everyone else gets to stay up.”

“Well, you have to, dear,” he answered gently, looping an arm around her waist. However, instead of bringing her into the bedroom, he escorted her back to the living room. “And I think you should be polite and let everyone know Daddy’s sending you off to bed. It’s pretty rude to just leave without explaining yourself.”

Her eyes widened and she dug her heels into the carpet as she waited for him to laugh and say he was kidding. However, there was no follow-up aside from a gentle shove toward their guests.

While their dynamic only rarely bled into their social lives, Daddy’s friends were still acutely aware of their extracurricular interests. Although she sometimes slipped up and would almost call him Daddy in public, she rarely strayed beyond the first syllable before catching herself. Sometimes, a friend would poke fun, but always in good spirit and without digging too deep into the dynamic.

She stared over her shoulder anxiously, but her Daddy motioned her toward their friends with a wave of his hand.

“Daddy, I can’t,” she whined, attempting to keep her voice low.

He grinned and reached out, patting her gently on the cheek. “Just one, Pumpkin.”

She huffed and sauntered over to the kitchen, hoping to catch someone alone. Blushing and anxious, she reached up and tapped a guest on the shoulder with a trembling hand.

“Daddy says it’s my bedtime,” she choked out her garbled, hurried admission. “So goodnight.”

A smirk. “How cute.”

It could have been worse. She had feared shame and ridicule; condescension was comparatively palatable. Biting her lip, she felt a gentle tug on her elbow and realized, in her nervousness, she had not noticed that Daddy had followed her into the kitchen.

He ushered her across the living room once more and towards the bedroom. Closing the door behind him, he featured to the bed.

“Lie down.”

She shuffled over to the bed, pouting as she moved to remove her dress.

“I didn’t say get undressed. Now lie down, face down.”

She whined and stomped her foot, letting it rise out of her shoe in a small gesture of protest. “But it’s not fair. I need to brush my teeth and change my clothes.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t say you were going to sleep just yet,” he chided. “Now stop with this ‘unfair’ talk and get on the bed.”

Tentatively, she stepped out of her other shoe before lying down on the bed. She folded her arms on the pillow and rested her head on them, attempting to get comfortable. However, Daddy tugged back harshly on one of her arms. She yelped in surprise as he slid one of her padded leather cuffs onto her wrist, buckling it snugly.

Releasing her arm, he quickly adorned the other wrist with a cuff, followed by her ankles. In a swift, rehearsed series of motions, he clipped her wrists together, followed by her ankles, before hitching his finger into the loop between the cuffs on her wrists. Tugging gently but firmly, he eased an arch into her back and secured her wrists to her ankles.

“Daddy,” she huffed, “I can’t sleep like this. It’s uncomfortable.”

He rolled up the bottom of her dress, letting it bunch around her hips. “Oh, sweetie,” he cooed, clicking his tongue, “I’m not letting you sleep for a while.”

She shivered at the chill of lubricant being applied to her asshole. “Da-” She managed to gasp out before he slid a finger into her, anchoring her still as he slapped her ass roughly.

She endured the spanking, the mocking wiggle of his finger inside her, the periodic scolding. Her fingers wiggled in the cuffs, toes curling as the finger in her asshole was drawn out and wiped on the skin of her rear.

Her Daddy pushed up on the juncture between her arms and legs, arching her body further. He climbed onto the bed behind her, pushing the full length of his cock into her ass.

Despite her best attempts to fuss and pout, she found herself unable to mask her enjoyment of these indignities. Her cunt dripped freely, body bucking back to meet each thrust, throat unable to contain the rumble of moans.

“Admit you like it, baby,” he ordered through gritted teeth, “tell me how much you love it.”

“I like the way you fuck me, Daddy,” she whined, burying her face into the pillow in shame.

“Louder,” he growled, “tell me you want it harder.”

“I want it harder, Daddy,” she gasped. “Please, harder.”

Despite the grunts that coupled his thrusts, he managed to chuckle. “Louder, princess. Tell them.”

“Them?” She asked, incredulous. It was then she began to wonder when the hum of conversation in the other room had died down, when the silence seemed to be only filled by the sounds of him using her ass. She whimpered, blushing all the way down to her chest.

“Oh God, Daddy,” she whispered. With that, he came, slipping out and sliding off of the bed. He tucked his cock back into his briefs and zipped up his jeans.

“You wanted to stay up? Now you get to stay up, sweetie. I’d say you could come back out, but I’d imagine you’d rather stay in here,” he said, patting her rear. “I’ll be back in a few hours to put you to bed, sweetheart.”

“But, Daddy,” she murmured as she felt his cum drip down the inside of her thigh. “It’s not fair…”

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“You’re just far too little and you’d be up far too late to play with Daddy and his friends. But, look, all of your little friends are right here, just in time for bedtime.”

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It’s really so easy to confuse indignation for repentance in a brat.

tease-and-deny:

Such a surly expression. Maybe I should leave you blindfolded, gagged, and on the hardwood floor next time.

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And Sweetheart promised it would be the last fib she’d ever tell.

Which was a fib itself.