penthouse – Page 6

Continued from here.

Penthouse tied me down to his bed, pushing my shirt up and tugging my pants off. He slapped my face and I groaned into the gag, feeling the spit start to build up behind the ball. My arms tugged hard at my bonds and I glared up at him as he slapped my breasts through my bra.

“Are you going to tell me where my wallet is?” He asked. He had passed the threshold of annoyance into sternness.

I shook my head and he reached down, slapping me once more.

“Ivy,” he squeezed my nipples. “Where is it?” I shook my head and he reached to the side of the bed, grabbing his knife and flicking it open. Almost instantly, I grew still as he started to run it over my skin. “Are you ready to tell me?” Despite the goosebumps that rose on the back of my neck, I shook my head once more.

He brought the knife down to my stomach and, pushing just hard enough to just leave a mark, wrote the word “whore” on my stomach in thin, capital letters. I’ve never been written on with a knife before and having to hold still through the entire thing was insanity.

“Now, let’s hear where that wallet is,” he said. I just smirked around the ballgag and he shook his head before getting up and walking over to one of his cabinets. “All right, let’s see what I can do to persuade you.”

(Blah blah my queue spat this out too early blah blah I guess I can start this story.)

Penthouse and I share an interrogation fantasy. I had articulated it to him for a while and had shared that the only time I had tried it, the guy was really half-hearted and was basically like, “one question now blowjob.” Which, I’m sorry, I love sucking dick but that killed it.

We were hanging around and I was messing with Penthouse’s wallet. “What are you doing?” He asked.

I smirked, “oh, I was thinking of hiding it when you weren’t looking so you’d have to ask me where it was.”

“Oh,” he replied, “I suddenly have something to do…elsewhere.” We both laughed and he got up and went to the other room.

Practically giddy with the fact that this was going to happen, I hid the wallet and waited for him to come back. When Penthouse returned, he feigned surprise at his wallet being gone.

“Sweetheart,” he asked in that Daddy-type voice that makes me blush. “Have you seen my wallet?" I just smirked and shrugged. He grabbed my arm, "did you hide it?” I shrugged again and he pushed me up against the wall. “Where is it?” I shook my head.

Suddenly, I felt him pull the ballgag between my teeth and buckle it at the back of my head. “Fine, when you’re really to tell me, I’ll take this off.” He shoved me towards the bed.

I made him worship my feet.

I hadn’t had a lot of experience with it besides a little bit of blushy messing around with Switch, but something just sort of persuaded me to do it and so I went on a hunch and did.

There was something really, really appealing about the look on Penthouse’s face while he did it. There was this sincere desire to please that literally got me soaked.

Too bad my feet are far too ticklish.

But, looking at a picture like this makes me want to imagine a guy kneeling below those shoes. So, I’ve been corrupted.

My toppy side came out and paid a visit while I was staying with Penthouse.

He had expressed an interest in trying it out and it was interesting to explore that sort of dynamic again.

I’d have to say my favorite part was when I was reading a certain something while straddling him and essentially ignoring him while he begged.

I’m not sure how I got quite so mean, but I’m pretty pleased with that fact.

Continued from here.

I cannot begin to stress the importance of aftercare.

After being hogtied on Penthouse’s bed, tied up in a lot of rope and having that crotchrope pushing the knot against my clit, I’d gotten pretty subspaced. I was speaking a lot of nonsense, I had trouble keeping my eyes open and I could barely sit up straight.

Penthouse untied me gently, held me close, was patient when I struggled to coherently express myself. He brushed out my hair and tucked me in. He checked in to make sure I was all right.

For as hot as the whole thing was, the aftercare really sealed the deal for me on the experience. Anybody can set up a situation like that, but to be able to care for a very subspaced girl is real dedication.

darkangelsbride:

“No escape”

Photo by Jerome G.

Continued from here.

The Southern Gentleman has a theory about the types of men I’m into. Basically, they fall into one of two categories: a) charismatic Aryans and b) what he calls “effete feminists” but is honestly just cause-oriented hipster-types.

I told him I was going to see Penthouse and before I left he proceeded to ask me, “so, which type is he?”

“You’re a jerk,” I replied.

“Feminist it is, then.”

Thus, when Penthouse texted SG from my phone, he decided to include the fact that he straddled the two categories.

And then proceeded to solicit advice.

“What’s he saying?” I asked.

Penthouse smirked, “he’s saying to feign indifference.” He yanked on the rope, pulling my crotchrope tighter, and I gasped. “But I think I like this better.”

Continued from here.

Penthouse sat on his bed, smiling down at me. I was hogtied at the foot of it, nude, rope slung through my crotch. Every so often, he pulled on the stray end of rope threaded through his bedpost, tightening the knot against my clit.

He noticed I had gotten a text from a certain Gentleman.

A certain Southern Gentleman.

He smirked.

“You can respond, go ahead,” I murmured, already halfway to subspace. Penthouse picked up the phone and responded with a greeting and an update on the situation.

SG responded right away.

And that’s how Penthouse met the Southern Gentleman.

Kind of.

stefanradev-foto:

“Rope marks ”
Model: Petya Gencheva

Continued from here.

Penthouse had undressed me and was starting to unwind a ton of rope. He started with the harness he had put me in during the mini-munch. I smiled to myself as he worked, still figuring I had the upper hand. After all, I wanted to be tied up.

My grin faded when I felt him pull the rope between my legs from the back and tie a knot in it. My eyes widened when he pulled the other end up through the front of the harness, causing the rope to tighten up against my exposed cunt and the knot to line up with my clit.

It was his turn to smirk when he gave the rope a few test pulls.

“Feel good?” He asked and I blushed, looking away. He reached up and mussed my hair. "Go get on the bed and let me do your legs, then.“

Continued from here.

When I heard Penthouse starting to come in, I adjusted myself somewhat, lowering the sheets here and there and raising my ass a bit. It was partially to just be a brat and partially to get out of actually having to take a nap.

“Sweetheart?” I heard him say from the doorway. “Are you trying to tease me?”

I kept my face down in the pillow to hide my smirk. “Maybe.”

After a few footsteps, I felt him climb into bed and thread his fingers through my hair, tugging my head back.

It’s kind of funny how winning sometimes looks.

My first meeting was Friday morning and it went exceptionally well.

I was tired, nonetheless, after having stayed up with Penthouse the night before. So, when I got back to his place, he ushered me into his bedroom.

“You’re taking a nap,” he said.

As a child, I was terrible at nap time. My teacher in preschool had to give me another activity to do after I would stay up and try to get the children around me to stay up with me. So, unless I am falling all over myself tired, I don’t take naps even now.

I pouted. “I can’t just nap."

He made sure to watch me get into bed and went to the door. "Close your eyes, I’ll join you in a little bit.”

I curled up in his bed and sighed. Outside, I could hear him talking to a few of his roommates. Blushing, I turned onto my stomach and closed my eyes.