The first time she tried to bring the crop over, she used her hands.
She’s been trained a little better now.
leash
Chained, Part Nine
I heard the tell-tale rattle of clothespins on a line and whined a bit into my gag. Penthouse had grabbed the zipper off of the desk and from my soon-to-be-proven-correct assumption, handed it off to Popcorn.
“What you do,” he explained, placing a hand on my shoulder, “is you just put them all over on her breasts, then yank the end of the string, and they all come off.”
Popcorn was a little ruthless. She went excruciatingly slow, debating out where each one should go, so I was stuck sitting with two particularly harsh ones near the skin over my collarbones. Eventually, I couldn’t take it and just hit the buzzer.
They took care to remove the blindfold and the gag, making sure I was all right, and took off the clothespins gently by hand. I was a little disappointed I hadn’t had the guts to ride it out, but I figured it was better to know my limits.
Penthouse untied my legs and I got up to my feet, adjusting my nightgown and giving Popcorn a hug. We thanked each other for a fun experience and she left, having somewhere else to go.
Chained, Part Three
Very shortly, Popcorn arrived and Penthouse left me in his room to fetch her. Hearing them walk through his common area and chatting casually, I only blushed deeper. When I heard the door open, I could barely look up and instead watched two sets of feet enter Penthouse’s bedroom.
“What do you think?” Penthouse asked, moving past me to stand behind me.
Popcorn’s shoes were just a foot from my hands. “Very nice.”
Penthouse moved over to the bed-frame and unhooked the chain, holding onto it. “What do you say?” he asked me, tugging gently on the leash, “look at her and say it.”
It took all the will I had to make myself look up at Popcorn. Not because I was ashamed or that I wasn’t into it, but instead because I was unbelievably turned on. As I opened my mouth to speak, she smiled warmly. “Thank you,” I stammered out.
I could hear the smirk in Penthouse’s voice as he held the chain out to her. “Want to hold her?”
“I think I would,” she replied, before looking down at me. “You all right with that?” I nodded and she took it, weighing the chain in her hand and smiling. She gazed up over me, at Penthouse, and added, “oh, I like this a lot.”
Penthouse asked me, before I came, if I would want to be leashed in front of a friend of his. He knew I liked it, he knew she liked the idea of it, and he conspired to make it happen. Blushing, but not thinking anyone would actually want to, I agreed.
On Friday night, we went to hang out with a few of his friends and he mentioned that she would be there. The whole time, I nervously looked around trying to figure out who this girl was.
At one point, this very pretty, petite girl in a little denim skirt mentioned that she liked popcorn because it was something she actually wasn’t allergic to.
Earlier that day, he had discouraged me from eating Nutella, because he mentioned the girl had a pretty bad nut allergy. Putting two and two together, I blushed about six shades of pink.
“She understood that her heart operated on its own instructions, that she had no control over it or, indeed, anything else.” – Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex.
Still debating the leash situation, Heart?
Mmm. Is that a challenge?
writhe for me. you can’t touch yourself, but I’ll let you cum if you can do it without touching.
Normally Sexy Porn Ruined By The Weird Or Inappropriate Or Nonsensical Setting Day: Teenage Wastelaaaand.
Male submission isn’t really a sexy button-pusher for me. But, hey, at first glance, it doesn’t seem quite bad for people into that stuff. I mean, it’s just a row of portapotties, right? Okay, sure, not horrible. Until you think where these things usually are.
Cue the bad music from bands you’ll never hear of again. Cue your friend throwing up after her first beer. Cue the bikini-top shaped sunburn that stings like a mother when you finally give into that “free hugs” guy and he claps you on the back. Cue getting elbowed in the face. Cue getting elbowed in the face again. Cue the teenage promoters for college radio stations, PETA, and obscure record labels whose pamphlets only serve as surrogate toilet paper when the real stuff runs out in the first five minutes.
And now cue the couple walking past the portapotties, which we all know have a line to that guy selling hotdogs for fifteen bucks a pop across the grounds. Cue the moshers that trip over them. But, hey, at least his dom was nice enough to grant him the privilege of wearing socks.