Aaaand I’ve got all sorts of chills and shivers.
So, yeah.
What he said.
Blush.
She thinks she’s been brought here to suck cock, so the duct tape is scaring her. She’s not sure what it’s for. What she doesn’t understand is that she’s been brought here to suffer, and the tape’s going to go over her pussy and mouth to make sure she doesn’t enjoy herself.
The one who’s been brought here to suck cock is still in the trunk.
Hey. Hey.
Play nice.
What must I say? Congratulations? Ooh how fantastically edgy?
Here, let me whip out my cock and spank my monkey to this piping-hot display of D/s carnality. Unf-unf *spurt*. Oh my monkey is so well and truly spanked.
Children, that is a terrible blade angle. Utterly ineffective. All it’s doing is scraping shaving soap off an already shaved cunt.
Oh. My god. That is edgy Daddy-care and knife play all in one. I would be incredibly inclined to wiggle but incredibly motivated to remain perfectly still. A tingling predicament.
(Source: letsplayrough)
Could you handle being defined
by a little science experiment in which
we throw a million ideas at the wall
and take note of which ones stick?
“A world without clocks and cell phones.”
That feeling.
The marks might last a day or two - mementos to their togetherness in a world of his crafted making. A world without clocks and cell phones, only trust, hope, fear, love. The things that remain when everything else is torn away.
She cherished her marks as reminders of what was real.
M's Infernal Cabinet of Desire: But is it Art?
You know when you’re uncomfortable with how much something turns you on and so you share it with other perverts in hopes of validation?
The photographer with whom she had an entanglement invited her to an art show, entitled ‘Consent, Ecstasy and Despair: a Study.’ He asked her to arrive early.
He cornered her in the cloakroom, kissed her hard. “I’m so glad you’ve come,” he said, his hands roving over her body, reaching under her…
It’s gonna be ok.
Growing up is a pretty awful thing isn’t it? Time whisks us along faster than we’d like, our bodies change, and our minds wander places they never used to, and sometimes settle on ideas that we don’t understand. We’ve all woken up in the middle of the night in a sweat, rattled by a dream so vivid we’re nearly convinced it was real, shocked at the pictures that crept into our heads while our backs were turned… It can be enough to spark a small-scale existential crisis.
How did all this stuff get there? What’s happening to me? Why is everything so complicated all of a sudden?
…and what the heck am I supposed to do now?
It’s that last one that’s important. I think maybe our biology, our psychology, the ticking clock on the bedside table… They’re not working against us so much as they’re pushing us to work hard at being “us,” and asking that we consider why we’re here in the first place.
We don’t get to control this uncomfortable metamorphosis. No set of ‘medical theories,’ western or otherwise, has demonstrated a complete understanding of how our bodies work. Fortunately, we are resilient creatures.
We can’t expect to shield ourselves from the influence that’s all around us. Others will try to tell us what they think we should be doing, and while there’s great value in considering their ideas, it’s our own compass that should be our guide. Our ‘gut’ will know, even if we don’t yet understand. Trust it.
So what next?
Start small. Find something you like to do and do it as best you can. Maybe it’s something fancy like playing an instrument, or studying the stars, or maybe something as simple as cooking, or drawing, or even volunteering and helping other people… It doesn’t matter what, it matters that you try your best so that at the end of the day you can be proud of yourself.
…and being proud of yourself isn’t always easy. It takes some practice, but it’s worth the effort. Do what you love as best you can, and be good to the people you meet while you do it. It won’t happen overnight, but in time the pieces will start to come together and you’ll have learned a great deal about yourself in the process.
Growing up is all about realizing what you need in order to be happy, and doing it.
Simple as that.
So, dear little anon, I’m sorry you’re having a rough day, but hang in there and rest assured that you’re not alone. If your ears get bent out of shape along the way, all you need to do is straighten them out as best you can and keep on hopping.
Usually I’m reblogging and liking whyexactly for the really sexy stuff he produces.
But the way he responded to his anon is just wonderful and worth a read, no matter what stage of “growing up” you’re at.
(But don’t go on his tumblr, or mine, until you’re 18. Really, yo. That’s the bottom limit cutoff for stages of growing up.)
(Source: pedalfar)
Aaaand I’m blushing.
Q: Can you do that with a strap on? Put it on her backwards, with the cock pointing in?
“B…, b…, but… you’re putting it on all wrong!”
-“Hold still and be quiet cupcake. It doesn’t matter what the other little girls’ daddies do, as I’m not the other little girls’ Daddy, am I?”
*pouts*
A: …
Mmmm. Damn.You didn’t think I was pretending when I told you I would own you, did you? That somehow we were playing? We are grown-ups, dear. Children play; we commit. And you and I have committed.
In your case, to sleeping in this cage, chained to the bars, until you have developed a more positive attitude to your new situation. If you are good perhaps you will in time deserve a mattress, maybe even a blanket.
(Source: deviantfemale)