“This is a bad neighborhood, little girl.” starring pretty-little-exhibitionist
expect a lot of fun, fucked up things this week.
Buttons = pushed.
thigh highs
Leftovers, Part Six
Leaving the get-together we were at (even though I was blushingly barely able to make eye contact with anyone after they’d watched me orgasm) was a mistake, but hindsight is 20/20. We wanted to check out a party at a dungeon, but when we arrived we were pretty disappointed. While the venue was fairly nice, the vibe was pretty awful.
People were mostly keeping to themselves and tended to just be sort of awkwardly watching as opposed to mingling. Sir tried spanking me over a bench, but both of us were kind of off our game from the environment. So, I asked him if he wanted to put me back in the harness he learned earlier. We might as well give something else a try before giving up on the evening and our lost entry fees.
Together, we talked through the steps as he tied me up. It felt sweet and intimate: him arranging the rope on my body, me reminding him of some of the smaller moves and praising him for somehow memorizing this thing so quickly. When he had the harness tied and my head pulled back by the rope in my hair and the crotchrope pulled tight, he pushed me over to the mirrors on the wall so I could get a good look at myself.
I had to admit, I liked what I saw.
Sir turned me back around, set to slapping my face and breasts for a little bit, and then led me through the venue by the shoulder.
But, could somebody fix me up with some latex panties and thigh highs, please?
I think my aesthetic sometimes hovers between trashy and sweet.
Hi, tumblr. Happy New Year.
I have resolved to make serious progress on my negative, harmful relationship with my body in 2015.
Part of this is a little project of posting a “new” (never before posted) picture of myself to this tumblr every day. This one’s from earlier this month, but I’ll try to keep them fairly current.
Yeah, it’s a little navel-gazey. But I think the act of photographing myself and sharing myself will give me the clarity of a healthier self-perception and the accountability to face my body every day and be like hey I don’t want to be enemies anymore.
So, here’s to 365 photos and getting closer to wellness.
I hope you all got everything you wanted.
Hehe.
“Oh, my God, I feel it in the air
Telephone wires above, all sizzling like a snare
Honey I’m on fire, I feel it everywhere
Nothing scares me anymore.”
Back to School, Part Two
Flint and I were hanging around on the couch while I was recovering from having my ass whacked with a wooden spoon and having half a party of mostly strangers see my ass and pussy. Lida came over and was being adorable, but totally forgot to say “please” when she asked for something even after I’d taught her. So, I asked Flint if I could give her a spanking and he said it would be fine.
Lida laid across my lap and I flipped her skirt up. Underneath, she was wearing a cute little pair of panties, and I noticed that her stockings were being held up by a garter belt. I didn’t know what kind of schoolgirl wore garters, but I wasn’t about to complain.
I set to spanking her, alternating between sharp hits and lighter swats. She squirmed and whined under my hand while I chastised her about being so impolite. A small group of people had gathered to watch, probably amused by one small lady dressed like a schoolgirl beating down on another small lady dressed like a schoolgirl.
Looping my fingers under her garters, I pulled them up and let them snap against her thighs. She leapt against my legs, squealing, and a few of the people watching chuckled. Shooting them a smirk, I slipped my fingers under the garters once more and snapped them.
I’m still so awkward about the whole domming people thing, and I honestly felt I needed aftercare after I’d done it because I felt so bad for making her hurt so much. Her ass and thighs were bright red when I finished, and I kissed her after and made sure she was okay with the whole thing.
“Are you serious?” Flint laughed, “she loves this stuff.”
At the end of our second date, Nilla asked me if he was too vanilla for me. I laughed, because the question was kind of silly.
I guess because I mess around with Flint sometimes and I’m a kinky girl, he assumed that I only gravitated to kinky people when looking for partners. Which is, I understand, how some kinky people navigate non-monogamy and partner-finding.
But let me lay out our second date for you:
- He picked me up and brought me to his place.
- We took a few bong rips and watched The Muppets, which was the best thing to do.
- When I said I didn’t want to have sex right away, he asked instead if he could go down on me. To which I was like, uhhh, yeah.
- He was really good at that. Like, I mean, full-on loving the pussy good at it. Like, way beyond spelling the alphabet with his tongue good at it. Like, enthusiastic, game-changingly good at it.
- When I sucked his cock, he actually murmured, “how do you even do that?” at one point which might be the best testimonial ever.
So, no, when a guy grabs my hips, throws me down and makes sweet face-love to my pussy, he is not too vanilla for me.