Sometimes I’m in the middle of some mundane thing and for no reason at all I think of the face you make when you’re close to cumming and I just want to call you or fuck you or scream your name.
You guys my head is completely pornified today.
Hey tumbl buddies,
I sprained my ankle last night at circus. Not even doing something cool, I was just walking and tripped over a mat. Because I’m clumsy and graceful like that. Sigh.
The bad news is that I am hobbling around like a fool and will be spending a lot of time on the couch elevating this shit, the good news is I will have time to sort through the 200 amazing pictures a certain sexy photographer has sent me. If all goes well I’ll have some to show you next week.
In the mean time I will be fantasizing about a lifestyle in which I am unbreakable and I have minions of sexy fawning photographers to follow me around and cater to my whims. They will all be marked with a heart tattoo as a symbol of their devotion and I will lick their hipbones and make them kiss each other for my entertainment when I’m bored.
Days like today I am grateful for you all, thanks for the love and the bounty of distractions.
(Image by Elliot Joseph Rentz)
I know I say this all the time, but I get the best submissions.
‘distractions ahoy!’ by the lovely sage-green (who asked me to tell you she doesn’t post selfies on her blog) (she sends ‘em to me instead hee hee.)
Read this. (You’re welcome.)
I woke up on Sunday morning in Craftsmate’s bed to the feeling of him tightening the ropes around my wrists. Somehow, the night before, I had agreed to sleeping tied up. Except instead of sleeping with my arms tied behind my back or in front, I wound up with my arms tied at my sides, attached to a crotchrope with a knot that pressed into my clit, preventing me from forgetting its presence.
We had established, sometime during the evening, that I was a selfish brat. Or, rather, I was told that I was a selfish brat who couldn’t control herself. Hence, the crotchrope, the hands tied to inhibit touching, the nagging push of the knot as a cruel little joke.
When he had finished tightening the rope around my wrists and ensuring that I would not be able to let myself out, Craftsmate climbed off of the bed and went to sit down at his desk. As he slid off the mattress, I became attune to the throb of my clit and realized the effect of the crotchrope on my sleeping body had left me inconsolably needy.
“I think it would be a nice idea if you came here and touched me,” I said playfully, wriggling a bit in the rope and feeling the knot rub over my clit.
Craftsmate shook his head. “You said nothing until you finished your thesis chapter.”
“I changed my mind,” I huffed. “Come here. Please?”
He didn’t budge.
I kept pressing, but I couldn’t get him to come over. My hips had started to pick up a slight thrust and I was trying to keep myself from grinding the crotchrope right in front of him, but I could only hold out so long. Eventually, my pleas for him to come touch me turned into begging him to use me and finally dissolved into me saying all I wanted was his attention, I didn’t care how it looked.
Amused, Craftsmate came over and teased the tip of his finger over the crotchrope. “I don’t think so. Maybe your Daddy lets you be a little princess and get away with this kind of stuff, but you’re entirely too spoiled and you’re not getting what you want this time.” I blushed at the mockery in his voice.
“Please,” I gasped out, “please I’ll do whatever you want.”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t think you get to cum until you’re a good girl for me and not some selfish brat.”
After a round with Craftsmate’s riding crop and a rather humiliating inspection of my cunt, which had become so wet that it had soaked straight through my panties and drenched the knot of my crotchrope, I was sent off with assurance that my poor conduct would no longer be tolerated.
And, much to my chagrin, an order to keep my hands off of my dully throbbing cunt until my behavior improved.
- Young Gun: (*smirks as he pins my arms above my head and puts his thumbs through the D-rings of my cuffs*)
- My Sexy Husband: The clips are right behind you if you want to restrain her.
- Young Gun: (*uses his hands to hold down my wrists*) Nah... this will be more fun.