at first i was impressed…but upon further inspection…i realized he is too skinny. id break him
(Source: h0tcelebs, via thesocialstoner)
He has so conditioned my psyche that a mere glimpse of ropes lying on the low table had my mind awhirl with excitement. Where would he bind me? How would he use me? What would he have me do to serve him? As my mind spun decadent fantasies, my mouth & my cunt alike began to salivate. He instructed me to get dressed, so I ran upstairs to adorn myself in a way I knew would be pleasing to him. As I once again descended, however, I wasn’t met with a lustful gaze of approval. I was met with a somber blush. He apologized for his ambiguity & explained that he had meant that I should get dressed to go out. He was planning to use the ropes, to use three pink holes, & to be served, but not…me.
Cultured & sophistocated discussions we’d had about polyamory were suddenly notably absent from my effete mind. While we often delved into the Daddy/little dynamic during play, being called upon to mentally & emotionally put on the “big girl panties” plunged me into a truly small & immature state. How could he do it? How did he have the capacity to turn this intelligent, virtuous woman into a tiny, smitten kitten, then that tiny, smitten kitten into a dejected, green-eyed monster?
Batting away the clouds of potential hypocrisy, I forced myself to focus on his exemplary communication & behavior in response to my sanctioned, wandering escapades. After other suitors have taken their turns with me, he inspects his property for fresh marks, requires detailed debriefing of how I was used, then relentlessly fucks my still stretched & slick cunt, reminding me of my divided loyalties. Those men are the oranges to his apples, I assure him. He is my home.
Quiet introspection cuts through the veneer of straightforward jealousy to reveal disconcerting undercurrents. Can she make him feel every bit as wonderful as he truly is? He certainly deserves to have everything his heart & loins desire, but I feel profound responsibility for his sexual satisfaction. While he has allowed me the immeasurable privilege of tending him in that way, I must remind myself that he has never relinquished control. Sometimes trusting my Dominant means trusting his judgement to discern, & ability to acquire the best- even if it’s not always me.
May I stay & play too?
“No, you may not.”
May I just watch?
“No, you may not.”
Am I still yours?
“Yes, darling girl. You’ll always be mine.”
I don’t need to know that I’m his “favorite.” I just need to know that I’m still his.
(Source: awsm, via 2truthsandaliewrosa)
lol love this…
(Source: tiedgirlsnet, via ameltedheart)
aw! so freaking cute
(Source: revolution4ry, via snapbacksanddopetracks)
dream car.
(via snapbacksanddopetracks)
Continued from here.
Switch claimed he’d never spanked a girl before. At first, he tended to go a little light. I urged him that I could handle harder. “Really?” He’d ask and then I’d hear the smile in his voice, “awesome.” Somewhere between impressed and inspired, he worked up rather quickly to hitting hard, to the point that I finally pushed one of my hands down to block his.
“You know, Ivy, I’m torn whether or not to move that hand and keep going,” he said. I didn’t reply. I was going to let him explore this.
But, instead, he moved his hand back down to my cunt. “I don’t think you want me to stop. You’re soaking wet.” I blushed as he ran his fingers over my slit, “now, why are you so wet? Only dirty fucking sluts get wet from spankings like this. Look at this.” He grabbed my hair with his free hand and jerked my head up. He brought his fingers in front of my face: they were coated, shining. He moved them back down to my cunt.
I practically cried out when, after teasing over my slit for a while, he finally started rubbing my clit. My gaze became unfocused, I was reduced to a series of “oohs” and moans. He chuckled, “you’re getting even wetter. You filthy little thing.” He kept going, saying things that made me blush, that made me feel simultaneously precious and degraded.
He brought me back into the moment when he slid a few fingers into me. His hands were big, his fingers large and long and imposing. I gasped a bit and lurched forward. Still clothed, still composed - a stark contrast to myself - Switch just pushed them deeper and laughed.
omg. yum
(Source: hobart1240)
Continued from here.
At one point, he had my face held firmly between his thumb and forefinger. My lips were forced to purse, my cheeks bulged slightly around his grip. His fingers were still inside of me, but he’d stopped moving them. I felt skewered.
I felt him looking over me when he murmured, “God, this fucking body. Especially that ass. You know you have a really sexy ass?”
“Yes, Sir,” I muttered through his grip.
He chuckled and started to move his fingers slowly. I moaned. “And you know guys look at it all the time?”
Were he not holding me the way he was, I may have laughed. But, there was something sobering about the way he was handling me. “Yes, Sir.”
“Especially when you wear skirts like that.”
I couldn’t resist. “I know. That’s why I wear skirts like that.”
“You dirty little slut.” He yanked his fingers out of me so quickly I cried out. The fingers on my face left my cheeks and moved to the back of my head, shoving my face down into the bed as he started spanking me again, harder than before.
lol that sounds like fun
true story
(Source: jester-lust, via thesocialstoner)
love cold play
(Source: fuckmenumb, via thesocialstoner)
lol my FAV position…with all my fav elements added into it. besides the lights on…so easily distracted..
(Source: explicitsubstance, via ameltedheart)
love this.
(Source: fuckyeahfingersinmouths, via ameltedheart)
omg. love this
(via thesocialstoner)
bahahaha right?!?!
(Source: coolstoryfuckface, via thesocialstoner)
