I think I need to find myself in one of these intense, inescapable situations soon.
latex
Where’s my little girl to play with?
How is this fair?
Found this going through my drafts.
This is what I get for throwing crap into my drafts and not volunteering right away.
Lesson learned.
Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Eight
With the blindfold off, I could see the room had a few clusters of people. In one corner, as I had been told, a girl was being hit with a rather nasty whip. In another, a domme was running a knife over a bound man’s chest. I looked over to Craftsmate and he grinned, tapping the flat rubber end of my gag with his index finger. “Is that better?” I nodded.
I nearly jumped when I heard a voice on the other side of me. “Oh, she can see now,” said a girl seated on the couch beside me, presumably to Craftsmate. I felt my cheeks reddening under the hood and realized that people had been looking at me while I was blindfolded.
Craftsmate smiled and clapped my knee, “yeah. I figured she would want to watch.”
Before I could even recover from the humiliation of one person talking right about me as if I wasn’t even there, the domme who had been doing the knifeplay walked over to the couch. She introduced herself to Craftsmate and the two started to have a conversation, all the while I sat there in a silence enforced by the large rubber cock sitting on my tongue.
At one point, she looked over and smirked at me in the sort of acknowledgement that, while I was in this position, I wasn’t going to receive any kind of formal greeting. The degree of condescension in her smile was indescribable.
Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Seven
After a little bit, Craftsmate and I decided to head over to one of the play areas. Before we sat down, he put my hood back on plus the blindfold and gag in front of everyone and I blushed so hard my cheeks burned against the material covering them. Taking hold of my leash, he escorted me over to a couch.
My feet were starting to become a bit tired from the heels on my boots and there was a growing stumble in my step, so I was grateful when he had me take a seat before I felt him sit down next to me. Around us, I could hear people talking but I could barely make out the conversation.
Craftsmate cuffed my wrists together in front and leaned in close to me, whispering through the spandex of the hood over my ear. “Do you like that everyone can see you like this?”
I whined around the rubber cock in my mouth and he stroked my forehead as if he were petting the trapped hair beneath the hood.
He continued to explain to me the layout of the room, the people inside of it. His hand rested on my knee and I felt a bit more grounded and secure. Otherwise, the noises and the conversation was a bit overwhelming.
“There’s a girl getting beaten over in the corner. Everyone’s watching this guy with his whip,” Craftsmate explained, “do you think I should volunteer you next? I’m not sure you could handle it. It’s pretty mean-looking.”
I buried my covered face in the crook of his neck and groaned.
He chuckled, “fine, sweetheart. Do you want to watch, too?”
I nodded and he reached up, unbuckling the blindfold.
At least they left a toy.
Y’know.
In case she gets bored.
(Image submitted by nanking-decade to make me blush.)
Some of the stuff I ordered got hereeeee.
My gosh, I am an overexcited child.
But, whatever, I have new pretties.
“She was afraid, and the afraid, she realized, sought opportunities for bravery in love,“ – Lorrie Moore, Like Life.
Well, tumblr.
All the schoolwork, partying, staying out late, messing around, organizing, campaigning, and general burning the candle at both ends has finally caught up with me and I am sick. So sick. Really. My voice sounds like Neil Young’s.
Right now, I need to focus on self-care but my head is running at 10,000 miles a minute over thesis, the election, schoolwork and everything else.
Since I am not the proprietress of a latex straightjacket (I’m intrigued, though, okay?), let’s hope I find some way to hold still, just breathe, sleep properly, and get myself together.
I’m not big on dirty pictures with too much drooling or too much smeared makeup or too much raw violence or too much leather.
I’ve got a thing for clean lines. I’ve got a thing for light colors. I’m big on the idea of just looking pretty. I’m girly. I’m particular.
There’s a time and a place for the roughness. It’s fun and it’s cathartic. But, if you can make me feel as degraded as I would covered in my own drool – through something a little less obvious, a little less primal, a little more refined – that’s talent.
I still haven’t given up on finding a latex dress. Just thought I’d let you all know I still dream big.