southern gentleman

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The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Ten

After I came, Sir told me that SG had asked to watch me serve him with my mouth. I agreed and Sir helped me onto my knees. I was still a little woozy from all the endorphins from the beating and my orgasm, but I was willing to serve. Sir took a seat on the couch and turned skype back on.

I sucked eagerly, wanting to show what a good girl I was. The idea that SG could see how obedient I was really turned me on, and so I applied myself to some serious cock worship.

Afterwards, SG sent along a screenshot from his end of me sucking Sir’s cock. My head was all the way down on it, his length buried in my throat. His face was out of frame, mine was covered by my hair, which Sir’s fingers were curled into. Despite how blushy it was, I tried to be cavalier by saying that I’d better not see that photo turning up on youporn.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I just deleted it.”

“Such a gentleman,” I teased.

He chuckled, “I’m gonna make you pay for that.”

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The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Nine

I had no idea what to say to the Southern Gentleman as I waited, so I just kept quiet until Sir walked back into the room. He reached down and squeezed my ass before hitting it once with the cane. I grunted in pain, squeezing the couch with my knees as he hit me again. My feet aimlessly shifted as I sought to retain my composure.

“See how nicely she marks?” Sir offered.

SG chuckled as I cried out from a particularly hard swat. “Is she always that loud?”

I would have said something snarky, but I was too caught up in the pain. Combined with the humiliation of being displayed and my extremely high level of arousal, I was practically drunk with sensation. But the endorphins had not kicked in yet and the hits still hurt like crazy. I felt my eyes well up with tears and I wailed.

“Is she crying?” SG asked. There was some concern in his voice, but there was something else. He seemed absolutely intrigued. He’d never really done the whole pain play thing with me. And, suddenly, I was stuck wondering if he was worried or if he was hoping that the answer was yes.

“I’m crying,” I exclaimed, my voice strained. “Show him. Show him how I’m crying.”

Sir chuckled and grabbed me by the hair, turning me around and sitting me back down on the couch. The sore, raw skin of my ass touched the couch and I winced a bit. But I could feel the wetness pooling between my thighs and I wanted so badly to be fucked that I was delirious from need and pain.

Sir and SG were talking, but I could barely keep track of it all. Instead, I was looking at the little box that showed was SG was seeing. I looked at myself, something I hate to do in these situations. I like to keep some degree of cognitive distance and seeing myself tied up is hard. Blame my shame issues.

But this time, with my makeup running down my face and my arms cuffed behind my back, I couldn’t make myself look away. I wanted to see myself.

Suddenly, the image faded and Sir was lying me down on the couch. He hooked two fingers into my pussy and started massaging my gspot. I shivered underneath him.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He smiled, “rewarding you.”

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The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Eight

While Sir and the Southern Gentleman essentially sat and discussed what they wanted to do to me, I got a little antsy. I pouted and shook my head, attempting to loosen the buckle on the bit gag. Sir took hold of my chin and asked me what was wrong.

“I want to talk to him,” I spat around the gag in a garbled mess.

Sir smirked and looked over to SG, “do you want to hear what she has to say?”

“No,” he replied, “not really. I just want to look at her.”

Despite how much I enjoyed this condescension, I managed to work the gag loose. It fell into my lap, slick and wet. Sir went to put it back in, but I shook my head and looked at SG. The two were discussing what they’d like to do, and I figured I’d add my side as well.

“I want you to use my cunt,” I said, barely able to get the words out, “I want you to fuck me while he holds me and makes me be good for you. I want to serve both of you.”

(I had, of course, assumed I’d just be gagged right up if I started with saying I wanted both of them to go down on me at once. So, I figured I’d start on a high note.)

Sir pulled me up to my feet and had me turn around and show SG my ass. “Why don’t you show him what he’s getting.”

“He knows what he’s getting,” I retorted, feeling a little saucy. Sir slipped two fingers into my cunt and I gasped, nearly losing my balance.

“Is she tight?” SG asked and I rolled my eyes. He and Sir were playing into that whole mutual slave auction fantasy they have (which, okay, I have, too) and I was feeling super exposed and blushy about the whole ordeal.

Sir noticed me squirming and moaning – caught somewhere between discomfort and pain – and laughed. “She’s so tight she’s a little sore from having just been fucked.” I blushed.

“Does she take pain well?” SG asked.

“You want to see?” Sir offered with a smirk and tipped me forward so I was bent over the couch, my head and chest resting against the seat.

I huffed. “He already knows!” I protested, but I was left to wait as Sir walked into the other room, forced to imagine what he’d decide to return with.

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The Adventures of Sir, Sweetheart and Mr. Purple, Part Seven

So, I should explain first of all what I’d been wearing this time. Partially, to slightly put off what our plans were. I had this piece of lingerie on that’s basically a sexy parody of an apron, along with a pair of fishnet thigh highs and a pair of black heels. (Yeah okay not totally sure why I’m explaining this because there’s a photo right there but…) I was also wearing my new cuffs and my training collar.

So, Sir and I had arranged to Skype with the Southern Gentleman to discuss our upcoming threesome. However, the whole matter of discussing it would be rather limited. When I sat down beside Sir as we waited for SG to join us, he clipped my cuffs together behind my back and slipped my bit gag between my teeth. As much as I squirmed and pouted, I couldn’t deny how immensely aroused I was and how I was sort of relieved that I wouldn’t be forced to actually speak.

Sir tilted the laptop so that I was out of the frame when he called up SG. The two greeted each other and talked briefly. I felt drool welling up between my lips and the gag, and I began to whine when it dripped down my chin. SG must have heard me, because he asked Sir how their “friend” was doing.

Sir grinned. “Would you like to see her?” He turned the laptop so that the camera was facing me. I felt my cheeks burn and instinctively turned my face away, shrinking back into the corner of the couch.

Sir snatched onto my shoulder and turned me so that I faced the camera. SG’s side kept cutting out, but I saw a brief smirk that made me attempt to hide my face again. 

“Don’t be shy,” Sir ordered, holding onto my chin. “Be a sweet girl, he’s here to see you. Look at the camera like a good girl.”

I squeezed my eyes shut before taking a deep breath. I felt my drool drip onto my knee and slowly, tentatively, I looked into the camera.

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Sir and I keep talking about what I’m going to wear for this whole potential threesome with SG.

I think I just got an idea.

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So, this is totally a fair question.

A year and a half ago, what he did was *not okay.* He had believed that I knew it was going to happen and it would be okay, but it was still not all right. And he admitted that and apologized.

I don’t forgive people easily. I carry grudges and I get really cautious about getting hurt. We basically had to build our friendship back up from the ground over a year and a half.

And in the course of that time, we’ve become different people. We’ve grown a lot. I see it in him and I see it in myself.

We’ve also grown closer than we even were before the whole incident. We get each other, we respect each other a lot more, we understand what to expect and what the other person is expecting. We’re both in healthy relationships with strictly defined parameters for openness.

I cannot begin to explain how touched I am that you’re looking out for me, though. Sincerely. It means a lot to me that you all aren’t just whacking off to me and sincerely care about me. So thank you. I’m really thankful for wonderful followers like you.

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Guyyyyys.

I don’t wanna jinx it.

But the Southern Gentleman is planning to be around during the holidays and he is taunting me about conspiring with Sir to plan a really sexy, really kinky threesome and and and and and.

Christmas miracles are real.

Hmph.

Chat

Me: So I kind of had dirty thoughts today at the gym about you, me and SG having a threesome.
Me: And you like fucking me hard from behind and directing him to fuck my face.
Craftsmate: Aww, look at that, Sweetheart wants all the attention from the boys.
Me: Hmph, stop.
Craftsmate: Aww, did I make your little cheekies red?
Me: Stop ittttt.
Craftsmate: Don’t think it’s gonna be easy like that for you. Just because there are two boys you think they’re both going to fuck you?
Me: Uh huh.
Craftsmate: Maybe we’re going to make you sit by the TV and spread your cunt.
Me: YOU’RE SO MEAN.
Craftsmate: And during the commercials we’ll take a few looks at your slutty hole all dripping wet with need.
Me: Nuh uh.
Me: It’s not fair.
Craftsmate: Yeah? Well, then you’d better dress the part. You know how slutty clothes can get you some attention.
Me: I’ll dress really slutty, I promise.
Craftsmate: But honestly I think the best role for you is to use you as a service slut to kneel on the floor while we drink and watch TV.
Me: It’s not fair. This was my fantasy.
Me: I want all the attention.
Craftsmate: Girls who are greedy for attention often end up with none at all.

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theonion:

Rock Apparently Factors Into Girlfriend’s Shower Routine

SEATTLE—Saying he was confused about the full extent of its purpose as well as its overall benefit, local man Jacob Ferris, 25, nonetheless surmised today that the oblong rock located in girlfriend Sarah Milstein’s shower caddy must somehow factor into her bathing routine, sources confirmed.

“I guess at some point while she’s showering, she rubs a rock on her body,” said Ferris, expressing what he claimed was “the only possible conclusion” about the light-gray rock in his girlfriend’s bathroom. “I mean, it looks sort of nice, so she could just have it there for decoration or something. But it’s usually right near all the other soaps and her loofah, so I think it’s probably something she actually uses while under the water.”

“I really don’t know how it all works,” Ferris added. “All I know is that in between Sarah getting into the shower and getting out, there’s a rock involved.”

Ferris, who said he was unable to determine exactly when in the showering process the rock first comes into play, told reporters he is equally clueless about what part of the body the rock is used on.

In addition, Ferris said he occasionally inspects the roughly 3-ounce object when he’s in Milstein’s shower, and told reporters that the rock is nearly always wet and is occasionally moved to slightly different spots within the bathtub, leading him to believe that his girlfriend uses it fairly regularly. He also noted his girlfriend’s bathing time never seems particularly longer than the average person’s considering she has added a rock into the mix.

Ferris added that all attempts to incorporate the rock into his own shower routine have ultimately been unsuccessful.

“I tried rubbing it on my skin once, and it hurt,” Ferris said, concluding that pouring soap and water directly onto the rock neither made it softer nor easier on his skin. “I could maybe see how it could get some dirt off of your body, but it seems too painful to work. Her skin usually looks nice though, so maybe I’m wrong.”

“There is a chance it could be a hair thing,” Ferris continued. “Maybe she rubs the rock in her hair? I don’t know.”

Ferris confirmed he has considered numerous reasons for why his girlfriend uses the rock in the shower, including that she has some type of skin condition, that the rock is some sort of weird tradition her family has, or that everyone uses rocks in the shower and he has been out of the loop the entire time.

“It could be for cleaning the bathtub,” said Ferris, adding he once suspected the rock was a device for making the bathroom smell nice, but then noticed it had no discernible smell whatsoever. “Like every few weekends she scrubs the tub with this rock? I guess I could see Sarah doing that.”

While Ferris said he is mostly certain that the rock was initially purchased at a home goods store of some kind, he was not able to completely rule out the possibility it was just a rock that his girlfriend found on the ground and decided to put in her shower.

“I wonder if I should put a rock in my shower for when she’s over here,” said Ferris, who said he once tried to locate a rock at a Bed Bath & Beyond, but left after not wanting to walk up to a sales clerk and ask them where they kept their “shower rocks.” “Or I could just tell her to leave a rock at my place if she wants.”

“I’m probably not going to do that,” Ferris added.

At press time, a visibly perplexed Ferris had seen the rock sitting in Milstein’s trashcan and then looked in the shower to see another rock sitting in its place.

Bahahaha, this is perfect.

The first time the Southern Gentleman and I took a shower together, I kind of caught him eyeing my things. Then, he just picked up my loofa and was just like, “WHAT IS THIS THING?” It is the most baffled I’ve ever seen him.