stockings – Page 3

Halfway There, Part Nine

When the food was done, Macy walked into the living room with her plate and took a seat on the couch. “Make sure you put your feet up on Ivy,” Flint said, which was in theory hot, but Macy has the coldest feet I have ever encountered. As in, do you have a circulatory system?-level cold. I groaned, but it wasn’t so uncomfortable that I was going to make it stop.

Lida’s feet soon joined hers and the three ate, talking and mostly not acknowledging my presence on the floor until I asked to be untied when my legs were starting to lose circulation a bit from being folded up for so long. They let me out, taking a bit to admire the rope marks on my skin while I stretched out.

We sat and watched television for a while, letting ourselves relax before the start of the inevitable round two.

So, I discovered yesterday that I enjoy figging.

Sir and I were skyping and I wanted to do something exciting and special for him. I hesitated at first, because I usually hate pain play, but I had the ginger root and I couldn’t hide the fact that I was a little curious. With clothespins on my nipples, I carefully exposed a little bit of the ginger and let him direct me.

He had me rub it onto my labia first. I was disappointed when the sting came on only mildly, but suddenly the burning swung into full effect. I felt like I was glowing. I usually hate pain, but this was absolutely amazing. I really, really liked it.

He directed me to rub it all over the hood of my clitoris before pushing the hood back and getting some on my clit. After a little experimenting, I discovered I really enjoyed carving out a little groove into the ginger with my nail and situating the groove over my clit. That was totally intense and really awesome.

I went off to my evening plans with my pussy still soaked and tingling, considering that maybe I’d found my favorite pain.

I like the idea of her having spent so much time getting all nice and pretty, and then the cuffs and chains are so, so dirty.

I hope you all aren’t massively sick of me just reblogging and drooling over lingerie I want like all the time.

This is what I look like when I’m sick.

Except not at all oh my gosh somebody please come and pat my head and feed me soup and tell me a bedtime story so I am well enough to go to a munch tomorrow.

Wahhh.

This totally reminded me of myanonymouslair and citrustree. And then I realized I was totally reblogging this with from Mally. Heh.

myanonymouslair:

“Touch me, touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass,
Be not afraid of my body.”

–Walt Whitman

Maid is one of my favorite games to play.

It’s basically one of the few ways I can convince myself to clean my apartment.

But, whatever. However it gets done.

Boo on being a grown up.

I miss being a kitty.

I really do cling to that whole corruptibility/grew-up-too-fast narrative.

For the people who’ve asked how I like barre:

My review, a month in, is that it can be rather fun.

Just, y’know, not quite this fun.