Sometimes, I don’t even know where the line is anymore.
humiliation
Somebody bought a really blushy, really invasive, really drooly kind of gag for me.
We’re trying it out during my visit.
At a party. Eek.
But actually.
Thanksgiving with Sir.
Now, please.
There’s something about being told that good girls share, and then not getting any at all.
I have never been made to do this. I don’t think I’d care for it.
I have been. It was one of the first super-serious D/s punishments I ever received. I was starting to get an inkling that I wanted the kind of kink that wasn’t just silly and playful, but this was a little too much too fast.
I have this fantasy a lot.
He takes a pretty girl out on a nice date and makes me wait at home. I’m allowed to touch myself when I’m home alone, but I’m not allowed to cum.
He tells me to expect them back at a certain time, but they come back about two hours late, laughing and enjoying each other. She pauses a bit when she sees me sitting on the stairs, but he just eases her down to her knees and tells her not to give me a second thought.
At first, she’s hesitant. But eventually her ego inflates, watching me sit there and squirm, and by the time they’re heading up the stairs, she yanks my hair and drags me along behind her. Or just kicks me over with her heel. Or just gives me a snide look.
I put his condom on him so he can fuck her. I get her wet for him. I sit on the side and whine and pout while he uses her the way I like to be. When he’s finished, I clean her off with my tongue. And then I’m sent to the corner to curl up and try to sleep while the two of them share the bed and laugh about how pathetic I am.
I don’t know, tumblr. I guess I’m a little messed up.
Flint likes to treat me like an animal.
He’s had me drink water out of bowls during scenes. He’s made me sit on a towel in his car so I “won’t make a mess.” And while rubbing my pussy as he drove, he’s had me look out the window and try to make eye contact with other drivers so they’ll know what kind of animal I am.
We were at my place and he was sitting in my armchair, making me straddle his leg and essentially hump it. I kept failing at finding the right angle, so I ended up grinding on his ankle and shoe more than anything else.
“Isn’t it funny?” He said, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “For a girl who hates the word ‘bitch,’ you really spend a lot of time acting like a little bitch in heat.”
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 Two
I half considered using the bathroom on the way out of the restaurant, burrito in tow, but we weren’t all that far from Macy’s place and I figured I would be fine. This, of course, was a mistake.
“I’m going to use the bathroom,” I said when Flint and I arrived at Macy’s. Macy and Lida were over at the store up the block.
Flint shook his head and set his stuff down on the floor. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am,” I huffed. “Come on, I have to pee.”
“Well, you’ll be in big trouble,” he replied, gesturing over to the kitchen. “If you want, you can go on the floor in there, but you’re not using the bathroom.”
“That’s disgusting!” I exclaimed.
He smiled, “yeah, it is.” Looping an arm around me, he hiked my dress up and started pushing on my bladder and teasing my clit. I squirmed, trying my hardest not to urinate on Macy’s floor. Thankfully, Macy and Lida arrived before I could. But, Flint just gave a sweep of his arm and said, “all right, everybody in the bathroom. Ivy has to pee.”
This is how I wound up back on the toilet, Flint taking pictures of me to send to Sir while Lida and Macy sat around me on the sink and the lip of the tub. “What is this?” I whined, “a Christmas card picture?"
I love the idea of being stuck like this with a group of people casually hanging out. And I’m struggling to do simple tasks while everyone just sits around and laughs.