In which I post a really haphazard, quick photo of a nasty bruise I got while being a brat in order to apologize for not posting or getting back to your messages. (I will soon, promise!)
Uh.
This counts as foreshadowing, right?
A little something to thank you all for the kind messages regarding the recent mountain of stress I’m climbing.
As you can see, I’ve been…destressing.
And giving in to a certain boyfriend’s promise of cookies if I posted this.
Yes, the plug is turned sideways. Yes, there’s some super humiliating stuff written on my body. Yes, I am blushing right now.
(Had Craftsmate photoshop the background to tears because I’m a moron who thinks somebody is going to recognize my bedsheets.)
Craftsmate was taking too long to pick me up.
So I took a picture of my boob.
This is a natural reaction, right?
Since I’ve been brave lately.
This is my tail, gifted by Craftsmate.
It’s fake fur, attaches to the handle of my butt plug and makes me blush like no other.
Meow.
Chained, Part Seven
“I love how she stays up on her toes,” Popcorn said.
Penthouse got down on his knees and tied my legs together at the ankles. He patted my calf before standing back up. “Can you stay up until we’re done with you like a good girl?”
I nodded, biting down on the corners of the gag as Popcorn hit me with the flogger.
I’m proud to say I did.
Chained, Part Six
Popcorn and Penthouse bent me over the bed and took turns spanking and flogging me, making me yelp and squeal into my ballgag. I squirmed when they stroked the skin, blushing in response to their chuckles and little quips about how fun it was to do this to me.
“Do you want to get caned?” Penthouse asked me and I heard him rummaging for something.
I moaned, nodding and trying to look over my shoulder. I had never been caned before, but I couldn’t manage to crane my neck to a degree to fully see it beyond watching something long and brown swish through the air and collide with my ass.
Having seen other caning pictures and now seeing my own ass: guys, those pictures must’ve taken a fuckton of caning. And it must have HURT LIKE CRAZY.
But I liked it. I loved the stinging, I loved the way they rubbed over it afterwards, and I loved the way they cooed over how red it was.
“She’s a good girl,” Popcorn commented at one point.
Penthouse reached up and patted my hair, smoothing it off my face. I looked up and saw his grin. “Yeah,” he replied, “she is.”
I don’t know how you other ladies do it, I am having so much trouble fitting into this binder.
It’s starting to get a little chilly, Craftsmate.
Bundling up is an absolute necessity.
A hat helps keep the head and ears warm.
Just a thought.
Allow me to reintroduce myself.
My name is boobs.
B-double o-b’s.
I used to move snowflakes by the o-z.
Like a Brisket, Part Ten
After Penthouse introduced The Prodigy to his homemade spreader bar, he demonstrated another sort of hogtie on me while all of them cooed over the rope-work. I admit, I was sort of upset that I didn’t have eyes in the back of my head to see it, so Craftsmate was nice enough to take a few pictures for me. And so I felt generous enough to share this one with you guys.
I might be blushing tons sharing this with you all right now, so bear with me.
That’s Penthouse’s belt and the whole arrangement was actually pretty comfortable. I could roll onto my side, I could push my legs up, and I could have someone else pull me up by it so I mostly left the ground without feeling much strain on my shoulders. So, I got kind of cozy on the rug and just watched the other three mess around with the rope.
Eventually, The Prodigy picked up a length of it and turned to Penthouse, making the statement that reduced us to so much laughter that we were almost in tears:
“Could you help me with Craftsmate? I want to tie him up like a brisket.”