voyeurism – Ivy

Whipping Post, Part Five

Pup had me hold onto the post and face the girls. He slipped the condom on and entered me roughly, holding onto my hips. He fucked me hard and I knew I was being loud, knew that the girls were aware of me.

I tried my hardest to avoid looking at them, I was pretty shy about the whole thing. But every so often Pup would tug my hair and I would be made to look, or he would grab onto my throat for a little bit and my head would be forced up.

It wasn’t that seeing them wasn’t hot. I’m not much of a voyeur, but the issue was more that I would be caught staring while I was in a fairly compromised position.

Regardless, I came looking at them.

Funny, how voyeurism and exhibitionism aren’t really mutually exclusive at all.

Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Five

Eventually, Craftsmate had me stop walking and hold still while he removed the blindfold, gag, hood and handcuffs. I blushed when I noticed the fact that there were people standing around near us and reached up to nervously wipe some drool from the corner of my mouth. Taking hold once more of the leash, he leaned down and kissed me, saying that he was proud of what I had done. And, truth be told, I was, too.

Beside us was what can be aptly described as a crawlspace with bars on it, essentially a cage dug into the wall. After opening up the door, Craftsmate applied some pressure to my shoulder and had me kneel and crawl inside. Once I was in, he pulled the bolt shut on the door and tied my leash to the bars to prevent me from crawling away from the front of the cage.

“Aw, look at you in there. How cute,” he teased. A couple walked by, both partners casting a glance down into the cage and smirking before continuing on. My cheeks were burning as Craftsmate pulled a chair up by the cage and took a seat. "I like you in there,“ he explained, "I think you’re going to stay in there for a little bit.”

I started to pout, but paused as I looked beyond him and noticed a man securing a woman over a bench. She was practically naked, save for a pair of panties and a collar around her neck. As the man began to flog her, Craftsmate followed my gaze and I could see him grin.

“Were you watching them?” He asked, knowing the answer.

“No,” I replied and turned my head.

He reached down through the bars and grabbed hold of my hair, turning my head. “No, no, I think you should watch him beat her.” He was smiling. “Do you like that?” He asked, patting my cheek. “Do you like the way he’s hurting her?" I tried once more to look away and he pulled my head back to face forward. "Come on, watch them.”

I could have died right on the spot.

Like a Brisket, Part Four

I had nothing to show for show and tell, so I figured I’d let Craftsmate and Penthouse show me a knot and I’d stubbornly try to get out of it before the final member of our party arrived. Penthouse used the belt from a robe and did a fairly simple but pretty tight two-column sort of deal on my wrists in front. I didn’t want to put my mouth all over it, so I figured if I just got one of my thumbs out I could manage just fine.

While I was stumbling around, trying to work my wrists lose and pressing the knot against my knee, corners of tables, and basically anything else around, Penthouse and Craftsmate set to laying out the things they had bought and figuring out how exactly they were going to make a pair of cuffs.

Eventually, Craftsmate looked up and chuckled, “I love how we’re just discussing this while she’s trying to get out over there.” I rolled my eyes, but I had to laugh. I had gotten the knot loose enough that I could slide my thumb up about halfway through the belt, but not enough to get it out fully.

I’m still not entirely sure what the exchange was, but for some reason I called Penthouse a bitch and he pretty calmly grabbed me and pulled me over his knee. I went to sit up, but he used an arm to pin me down. “Now, what did you call me?” He asked.

I stifled a laugh and looked over to Craftsmate, “come on, vouch for me here.”

“No can do,” Craftsmate replied, “I’m kind of a voyeur.”

I huffed and craned my neck to look back up at at Penthouse, “a bitch. I called you a bitch.”

“Uh huh,” he said, hauling me to my feet by my shoulders and walking me over to the carpet. “Thought so.” He applied some pressure to my knees and I knelt down, still trying to work my hands free. He looked down and chuckled, “how’s it going?”

I groaned and tried to use my knee for leverage, “I just need to get the thumb out.”

Penthouse laughed and pushed me down on the carpet. “Go on, then, get your thumb out,” he said, holding me down in an effort to make it more complicated until his phone buzzed that the girl from Ivy University had arrived. He helped me up and I stumbled forward before feeling that there was finally the give in the belt I needed.

“Oh, here it goes!” I exclaimed and yanked my thumb, followed by my whole hand, out of the belt. I shook it loose and set it down on the counter.

Penthouse and Craftsmate applauded. I took a bow.

pausesbetweenthought:

Tied with a bow.

I’ll have you know that I encourage audience participation.

nataliejones1987:

May I watch? 😉