southern gentleman

Overwhelmed, Part Six

The Southern Gentleman hauled me up to my feet and over to the middle of the room. I stumbled along, having a little trouble finding my footing after having been stuck on my knees.

“Can I have the clamps off? Please?” I asked. The pain had started to mount, and I knew that it would hurt like crazy once they came off, but I wasn’t sure how long I could handle having them on.

SG held me still while Sir traced the pads of his fingers over my trapped nipples. “Does it hurt, sweetheart?” He teased. I nodded eagerly. Slowly, he removed the clamps one by one and set the chain aside. I cried out, squirming in SG’s arms, my eyes welling up.

As soon as the clamps were off, Sir tugged down the front of the lingerie I was wearing until it was stopped by the cuffs on my wrists. “Let’s get her out of this,” he said, While Sir undid the cuffs, SG held onto my hair and kissed me roughly. Once the cuffs were off, Sir began yanking it down as SG tipped me from one side to the other to allow the bundle of mesh to come off of my legs.

I was left only in my fishnets, wedged between the two of them as they manhandled my now naked body. Fingers probed into my mouth, forced me onto my toes as they hooked into my cunt. I wasn’t surprised to feel how easily they had slipped inside of me, I had assumed that I was already wet.

One of them shoved me over to the futon and I knelt down on it. Sir walked over and grabbed me by the hair, sliding his cock in my mouth. I sucked, watching out of the corner of my eye as SG approached the futon as well.

worldofjamesdeen:

Some more James Deen and Sasha Grey action. Yes, James, please put something into her mouth!!!

Razordoll scene at www.worldofjamesdeen.com

Overwhelmed, Part Five

“How’s she doing?” Sir asked.

“Well, I see a marked improvement,” the Southern Gentleman joked. I was on my knees, wrists cuffed behind my back, nipples clamped, gag off. Sir was sitting by the couch, having a drink and watching as I sucked SG’s cock.

After hearing that comment, I pulled back and pouted. “Hey, you ass,” I huffed and laughed. Sir got up and grabbed my hair, holding my hair still while SG slapped me.

“Something funny?” he taunted, slapping me again. “Is something funny to you? Your job’s to suck cock, I’d better not see your face off of me unless you’re licking my balls.”

Sir shoved my face back down on SG’s cock and moved back over to his seat. SG smirked and sat back, rolling his hand through my hair while I sucked. Trying to be a good girl, I kept taking him deeper, to the point that tears were welling down my face and drool was pooling onto my chest and I was becoming a mess.

I pulled back and gasped for breath, only to have SG grab roughly onto my hair. “What did I just say?” he slapped me across the face.

“My face is messy,” I protested. “I want a tissue.”

Sir chuckled, “I know, we like that. It’s cute.”

I pouted, “but I want a tissue.” Sir conceded and wiped my face while SG still held me by the hair. Once my face was relatively tidied, SG pulled my face back down onto his cock.

“I feel selfish,” SG said to Sir, taking a sip of his drink and mussing my hair.

Sir laughed, “don’t. I like the view.”

SG reached down and looped his finger between my cuffs, simultaneously bending me forward and yanking me up to my feet. “Do you want some of this?” I stumbled, nearly falling into his lap, and he laughed. “Let’s take her over to the futon.”

Overwhelmed, Part Four

Before we really got started, Sir left me with the Southern Gentleman for a little bit so that he could use the bathroom. Now alone with SG – my hands cuffed behind my back, ass sore from the beating, lingerie tugged down to the middle of my torso to allow the clamps onto my nipples, jaw a mess of drool from the gag, one of my heels off from all the struggling – I blushed when I realized that he, and Sir, were both still fully clothed and completely put together.

SG looped a finger in the chain that connected my nipple clamps and tugged upwards. I arched my back, straining to relieve some of the pressure, and shrieked behind the gag when one of the clamps slipped off of my nipple.

“Awww. Oh no, poor thing,” SG mocked as I whined behind my gag. He lined the clamp back up with my nipple and tightened it. I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut, the soreness in my nipple now compounded by the clamp being reapplied so soon. "Aw, don’t act so put upon,“ he teased and patted my cheek.

I opened my eyes and grimaced at him as he shifted on the couch and picked the riding crop back up. His hand slipped into my hair and he bent me forward, delivering a few sharp hits onto my already raw ass. I cried out, burying my face in his knee. He moved his hand down to cup my face and I could hear Sir enter the room again.

Sir reached down and hauled me up to my feet as if I were a small child, with his hands under my armpits. My other shoe slipped off. As SG rose as well, I felt incredibly small and helpless with them surrounding me, dwarfed by almost a foot by both of them without my heels on.

"You got her back,” Sir commented, and traced a finger over the one hit I had sustained there where I had struggled. I thought Sir was going to make some silly comment about how SG had damaged his property. Instead, he held my chin and tilted my face up so that I was looking SG in the eyes when he asked, “would you like her to suck your cock now?”

Overwhelmed, Part Three

Sir and SG returned to the living room. I didn’t look up, staying in the position they’d left me in until Sir grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up until I was holding onto the back of the couch. He pushed down on the small of my back until I dipped my ass out, biting my lip in anticipation of the pain that I knew was about to come.

“She was mocking me the other day that I didn’t get to give her any birthday spanks,” Sir explained and smacked me across the ass with the tawse. I yelped and jumped up a bit before he eased me back into position. “But now that we’re somewhere nice and private, I thought you might like to help."

I looked over my shoulder as Sir grabbed onto the loop between my cuffs to hold my hands out of the way. SG had picked up the riding crop and swung it hard against my ass, as if to gauge my reaction to it. He’s not the sort of guy to use anything besides his hands, but he was clearly enjoying himself. "That sounds like a good idea,” he replied to Sir.

“So we’ll alternate, then,” Sir said, taunting me by tapping the tawse against the top of my ass. Suddenly, as if something had occurred to him, Sir set the tawse down and tugged me back by the cuffs on my wrists. He slipped down beside me and slid a pair of nipple clamps into place. I pouted and he put me back into position. “Are you ready, dear?”

“Uh huh,” I replied around the bit gag, already starting to feel drool gather at the corners of my mouth, drawn out by the way my head hung.

The two began to alternate hits, counting as each made contact. Sir mostly stayed on my right buttcheek with the tawse and SG with crop, but a few hits wandered more towards the center. I cried out with each hit – they were getting progressively harder – and I felt my eyes well up with tears, felt drool puddle onto the top of my breasts.

By the twentieth hit, Sir rubbed my shoulder. “Are you ready, baby? Three more.”

“I can’t,” I whined behind the gag. “I can’t, it hurts so much."

I should preface this moment by saying that I have a safeword, and it’s not "I can’t.” Sometimes, I want a push, I want to be reassured that I can continue to take this sort of pain. I want to build that tolerance and get into the endorphins and feel proud of what I’ve taken. And because I’ve been in a relationship with Sir for a year – and been playing with him longer than that – I trust him to know when to push and to draw the line where I just can’t take any more.

“You can,” he reassured, mussing my hair. “Are you ready to keep going?"

I nodded and the two resumed, delivering the final three hits. I collapsed against the couch, whining in the pain glowing across my rear and the dull throb of my clamped nipples. Sir pulled me upright and kissed my temple. I could tell that he was very proud. And I felt so incredibly strong and resilient that I was thrilled with myself.

But Sir was right, he called it. It only got messier:

nankingdecade:

You said you wanted to be pretty. You said you wanted all the attention. Be careful what you ask for, sweetheart, it may be messier than you expected.

Overwhelmed, Part Two

After what felt like an eternity of just sitting there, Sir looked over to me. “Come over here,” he said, pointing in front of him.

I rose to my feet and moved over in front of the couch, standing in front of him and SG. Sir reached forward and placed his hand on the side of my leg, patting it gently. Unsure where to look or who to look at, I wound up just going between the two of them nervously. Picking up the bit gag, Sir had me lean down so that he could place it between my teeth and buckle it behind my head.

I pouted a bit at the fact that I was being silenced so soon in the game, but I knew it probably wouldn’t last long. SG reached forward and pinched my nipple through the thin fabric, twisting it until I groaned in protest.

“On your knees,” Sir ordered and I obeyed, kneeling in front of them. Confessedly, I hadn’t expected the whole thing to get quite so kinky right off the bat, but SG was totally on board as Sir passed him one of my cuffs. They each took a hand and buckled them on, before Sir attached them behind my back and pulled me back up to my feet.

SG stood as well and Sir grabbed me by the shoulders, pushing me against SG. His hands wandered over my breasts before roughly yanking one side of the lingerie I was wearing down. SG reached up and started once more to pinch my nipples, while Sir gathered up my hair in his fist.

“Give him a kiss,” he said, tilting my head up to face SG, who was grinning ear to ear. “Give him a kiss for coming to play with you.”

“I can’t,” I mumbled around the gag.

Sir laughed and tightened his grip, “do the best you can.” I huffed and leaned up, essentially touching my gagged lips to SG’s. I felt him chuckle against my mouth before he kissed my lower lip almost tenderly, considering the situation.

“That was kind of cute,” SG said as Sir pushed me back over to the couch, releasing my hair as I stumbled onto the cushions. As soon as I settled, though, he took hold once again and pushed me until my cheek was touching the fabric and my ass was up in the air.

“You stay there,” Sir ordered, “while I show SG some nice things to hurt you with.” With that, they left the room.

Overwhelmed, Part One

There was this moment, in the middle of eating lunch with Sir and the Southern Gentleman, that I actually acknowledged what we were going to do when we got back to Sir’s place. It was odd, we were at this point of sort of actual comfort and contrived conversation. Like, yes, let’s discuss how good American Hustle was. No, let’s not talk about how I’m getting spit-roasted in roughly an hour.

When we got back to Sir’s place, he told me to go get changed and I disappeared into his bedroom. As I slipped out of my clothing, I could hear them talking and laughing in the living room. I was wearing something that I can’t really describe as much beyond a lacey, bowed, mesh, thonged leotard (photo for reference), a pair of fishnet thigh-highs and a pair of black pumps. The heels were just a little too big for me, and so when I walked out into the living room, I stumbled a bit.

Sir’s living room has these tall windows and I told him that morning that I was feeling a little brave and I wanted them open for this. I figured not too many people would be able to really tell what was going on, especially with the futon being so low to the ground.

The corners of Sir’s lips turned up in a smirk, but he tried to stay nonchalant. He gestured to the futon, which was already folded down. “Go sit.” He and SG were drinking whiskey. An effort, perhaps, to continue to carry off the whole casual thing.

I moved over to the futon and sat down. At first, I really couldn’t look at them, I was too nervous. But when I got up the nerve, I saw that while Sir had managed to look unconcerned, SG’s eyes were darting over to me every few seconds. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Sweetheart,” Sir said, “spread your legs, would you?”

I blushed and looked away once more as I moved my knees apart, and they continued to talk.

I’m teasing Sir on Skype right now.

This was what I wore, with fishnets, during a certain threesome with him and SG that I need to work up the nerve to write about already.

(Please ignore the bruise on my inner thigh, I dropped a freaking kettlebell into my lap.)

SG and I just had a conversation about how a hitachi is actually a good investment financially.

But honestly a pretty poor investment in my future, since the likelihood of me getting anything done with it is pretty slim.

sexysexnsuch:

umm

nankingdecade:

Sweetheart spent some time with two boys today. They were a little mean.

Um, they were lots mean.

Sweetheart’s busy today.

Try back later.

Ivy

Just another Adult Content site